Building The Bridge - 2. Chapter 2 - Such Delightful News

The thirteenth day of June 1903 was possibly the most exciting day of my life I can honestly tell you.

How do you adequately put into words these feelings I am experiencing? Quite frankly I find few words adequate to correctly express how wildly excited I am. In three years of working at the steel factory I never in my wildest dreams expected that something this monumentous would present itself at my door, let alone allow me to step through.

I had not managed to concentrate much on my tasks or duties for the rest of the day and at four in the afternoon the foreman had cuffed me over the head and sent me home for a proper tea and a chance to calm my joyous nerves down.

I not sure that is possible mind. It is not every day that a young man like me is invited to participate on a project of such importance, nor do many my age get to travel the world.

“How had I won the fortune to be granted such an opportunity?” I wondered as I plodded along the cobbles on my journey home.

Whatever good deed it was that I was being blessed for, and I was having trouble putting my finger on such a deed, I sure knew that I was eternally grateful to the angel above who had been smiling down on me this morning.

One of the new electric trams rumbled around the corner, its bell ringing as people scurried out from across the tracks. Most of us could not get used to the speed at which these power driven machines were propelled down the street, and frequently you could see country folk stood gawking in amazement at a tram seemingly propelling itself without horse or mule.

These were modern days to be living in Darlington. Our once simple little market town, it has grown into a thriving engineering centre of the Industrial Revolution. The town’s population has swelled to outrageous proportions, and still there is a shortage of skilled labour for the mills and foundries.

Our lifestyles have changed so radically since the introduction of electrical generation in Darlington at the turn of the century and as an industrial centre in the North we can proudly say we lead the way.

Yet we suffer still the unsightly shadow of coal dust and shoot stains on our cities buildings. Black tar that clings to the stone façades of regal architecture from the industrial chimneys belching out thick black smoke every day as our nations thirst for steel demands our factories to work long and hard.

There are many taverns filled with rowdy drunken workers, flourishing away their hard earned gains in a whim of pleasure, smiling at the ladies of the night, teasing the bar maid and her serving girls.

There are the poor and homeless, who would look at you with pleading eyes and slice your throat the moment you yield and reach for a penny to pass to them.

Yes we are a very modern city in very many ways, but be that as it may, today none of this worries me. I fear not what next month or the one after that holds for me, for in a few short weeks I shall be gone from here.

Imagine that, little me, Jacob Cummins off to Africa. Who’d have thought?

Home.

I can break my joyful news and share with Ma and Da my good fortunes this day. I can only hope they will be as happy.

“I’m home,” I call out as I break in through the front door.

Ma sticks her head out the kitchen doorway with a frown on her face.

“Jake, what on earth are you doing at home at such an hour my boy?” she asks me with a troubled look on her face.

“Ma, it is nothing to fret about, I am fine. I was sent home early to enjoy a good tea.”

I smile broadly at Ma, and instantly she can tell there is more. I have never been any good at keeping nowt from my Ma. She reads me faster than I am able to read myself.

“Jake, what is going on, out with it boy don’t dilly dally now!”

She is studying my expression very closely and try as I might I just cannot hide the grin I feel breaking through my lips.

“Ma the boss has invited me to accompany the working team for the construction of this new bridge we are building.”

I bounce up and down on the spot, the excitement of my news making me giddy with emotion.

Ma is still looking at me puzzled while shaking her head.

“Boy stand still you are making me feel anxious. Come here and sit down and try to explain to me what this is all about before you grey any more of my hairs.”

She points at a chair at the table in the kitchen.

I promptly park my bum on the chair and smile up at my Ma who’s looking down at me in wonder. I don’t think she’s ever seen me so exuberant. Truth be told, I am not completely sure I’ve ever had reason to feel so.

“Well go on, the cat hasn't got the milk yet boy!” Ma is getting exasperated by this time.

I giggle playfully at her impatience.

“Well Ma, it’s like this. The company have been given this contract to build and construct a brand new bridge.”

Ma nods her head, “this much I know son.”

“Right, well, the construction of this bridge is to take place in Africa Ma, and I have been chosen by the governor to be part of the rigging team that accompanies the bridge to its destination.”

The dawning of what I am telling Ma flashes across her face and I can tell instantly that she is not mightily impressed by my news.

“You, Jacob Cummins, going to Africa?” she blurts out. “I think not young man.”

It feels like a slap to be fair. Stunned and not even sure I heard her right I look at her. Ma is scowling at me almost, a deep frown on her face, her head shaking from side to side.

“Ma?”

“No way Jacob!”

“But Ma… Why?”

Ma spins around and stomps off to the stove where tea is being prepared.

“I am sorry Jacob I am not having any son of mine traipsing around some vermin infested wild land on some ridiculous engineering project.”

“But Ma….”

“It is a wild place Jacob, full of all manner of weird creatures. No, I won’t have it.”

Ma is in a full swing rant by this stage. She is completely off on one, and I just sit there feeling somewhat deflated at her response to my tale of good tidings.

Good Lord if this is her reaction to my news what is it going to be like when Da finds out? I shudder at the very thought of him going off on one too. That would be just awful.

I can only hope that when he gets home from work he is in a good mood, as if he is in a bad one, it is going to be a long lonely night in my room.

“…..and they could even eat you alive if they chose too,” Ma is still in full flow.

I focus on my fingers and I slowly rotate my thumbs around each other, not really paying any attention to what my mother is berating me about now. I am too bitterly disappointed to put energy into concentration.

Talk about a lead weight. I suddenly understand where that expression comes from. My shoulders feel like they have just been given the yoke of the world to bear all on my own.

“I said go and wash your hand Jacob. Don’t you be ignoring me now son!”

Snapped back to reality by the sharp retort of her voice, I’m just lucky enough to have registered that this is an instruction, one I’d best obey if I plan to eat tonight.

“Yes Ma,” I say as I rise from my seat and make my way to the outside wash trough.

It is a wonderful evening. The sun is shining and there is bird song in the air. I can smell the fields blowing in on the breeze. We are lucky on this side of the town to be granted reprieve from the oppressive cloud of dirty smog from time to time as the wind blows over our end first, bringing with it the smells of the country.

A good scrub and the cold water freshens me up and I feel slightly better for being clean. I quietly make my way back into the house and disappear into my room to change into my casual cloths for wearing around the house.

While I wear a leather apron at the factory, my outer garments still mange to pick up a lot of the filth and grime of the factory and Ma really despises us wearing them around the house. It is safer to change quickly on arrival home than risk a lashing from her tongue.

Having changed I decide to sit on my bed and await tea to be ready. I don’t want to have to listen to any more of mother’s tirade about how dangerous Africa is.

Home is a safe haven. A place I enjoy returning to after a hard days work. I wonder to myself if I would miss it should I travel to Africa.

The idea of no hot tea to come home too is a bit of a shocker. But I can cook much to my mother’s castigation. I might well miss my comfortable bed, but then again I have read that there are very comfortable travelling contraptions that they use on expeditions these days.

It is this ability to read that has prompted my selection for the project to Africa in the first place. It is not uncommon for lads my age to be able to read and write these days, it is however unusual for a factory apprentice to have these skills and that apparently set me out from the rest.

Ma learns me these skills and then when I have a chance to put them to good use she promptly blocks me from doing so. I don’t understand her.

Bang.

The front door slams and I am yanked from my musing. Da is home. Suddenly I don’t feel so good. If this is what pure fear feels like then I am experiencing it. I don’t want this all to go sour once more. I’m not sure I can stand Da ranting at me too.

I hear the kitchen door close and that signals that Da is washing up. Tea must be almost ready. I contemplate running away for a split second. Making a mad dash for….

How ridiculous. I wouldn’t even know where to run too.

I rise from my bed and begin pacing the room. I’m worried that Ma and Da will really get angry at me for even considering leaving home so young.

The kitchen door opens and I can hear them talking. Muffled as their voices are I just know they are talking about me. My stomach turns and I have to quickly sit down before I fall down. This is a nightmare. Tonight was not meant to pan out like this.

I hear Da make his way to their room to change.

“Hello Jake,” he calls passing my room.

“Da,” I manage to squeak in an awfully child like voice.

Suddenly hearing my voice sound so pathetically young makes me stop and ponder. Who am I to consider leaving home to depart on an adventure half way around the world? I am barely nineteen, three years into my apprenticeship with the Cleveland Bridge and Engineering Company.

The greatest distance I have ever been from my home in Darlington is when I went with my Da as a young lad to Bishop Auckland to buy half a sheep for Christmas one year. That was the year my uncle had visited from London. Fitting four of them and three of us in this two bedroomed terraced house was no easy feat I’ll tell you.

But maybe Ma is right. I mean what do I think gives me the right to up and leave home now?

Maybe I’ll just tell them I was being stupid and forget all about it.

“Jacob, Henry, Tea”

A typical Ma announcement. Why use a lot of words when just a few are adequate she reasons.

Both Da and I make our way into the kitchen. I hover around my chair until Da has sat down, and then take my place.

Ma places our plates before us, and then sits herself down at the table with her own meal before her.

We join hands and give thanks for the food and then kind of just sit there looking at the plates before us.

“Ma says you have big news,” Da breaks the ice.

I shake my head, picking up my fork. My hand is trembling and I am having difficulty concentrating right now.

“Don’t pretend it’s nothing Jake. Just tell him.” Ma admonishes me.

I look up at her, pleading to her with my eyes to stop this.

“Go on son, tell me,” says Da.

I look from Ma to him and then back at Ma, and finally down at my food.

“I was invited to join an expedition to build a bridge in Africa today Da,” I mumble quietly.

“Africa hey,” Da says contemplating his food.

He fills his mouth with a fork full of mash and mince and chews thoughtfully for a moment.

“You know it’s dangerous in Africa boy?” he asks.

I say nothing but nod my head staring at my food.

Da takes another mouthful of his tea.

“You know it will be hard work in a harsh environment son?” he asks.

I look up at him puzzled by this line of questioning, but nodding my head all the same.

He furrows his brow and swallows thinking hard as he deposits another fork full of food into his mouth.

“Son you know you could be killed out there?”

At this question my mother slams down her fork and glares at my father.

Da just quietly continues eating his food, watching me as I watch him. He holds my eyes, his deep grey orbs drilling down into my mind.

I feel I owe him at least an explanation.

“I’m sorry Da, they just told me that I could accompany the team, and I was so excited I foolishly assumed it would be acceptable for me to go.”

I looked down at my tea, running my fork through the mash not even considering it was edible.

My Ma nods her head in approval at this statement, knowing that she’s got through to me. I notice as I look down a small smile on the edge of her lip.

I feel heart broken in that moment. It’s like being given chocolate for pudding when you are three years old and then having it taken from you and having to watch someone else eat it before you.

Chewing thoughtfully for an age Da suddenly looks up at me and asks, “Why are you sorry Jacob?”

My head snaps up to stare at him.

“What do you mean Da?”

He thinks carefully before answering again.

“Son, allow me to tell you how proud I am of you at this moment. My son, a young Cummins boy has been offered a position to accompany a team of seasoned and professional engineers half way across the world to build a bridge.”

Ma’s mouth fell open in horror as she looked on at Da.

“And to think that my boy achieved this out of a factory of ninety other steel workers is high praise of your talents in itself young man. You should never apologise for hard work and achievement.”

Da shovels another fork of tea into his mouth and chews.

“Your right Henry, but he’s not going to Africa,” my mom declares glancing across at me.

When Da is considering something he does not rush, and it can be the most frustrating thing in the world. Right at this moment there are two people about ready to accept a sentence of admission to the Tower of London for a glimpse of what this man is thinking.

“Henry, he is not going to Africa,” my mother repeated a little more firmly.

My father toyed with his mash and the looked up straight ahead sighing.

“I think it’ll be good for him,” he said simply and took another mouthful of his tea.

I was too stunned to say anything. Ma too. She just sat there with a horrified look across her face and tears in her eyes.

Da continued to eat, quietly allowing everyone in the room to contemplate what he’d just said.

I could tell by this time that Ma was struggling to keep her emotions in check. Suddenly she stood up and rushed out of the kitchen to her room, slamming the door as she went.

Da just sat quietly and continued eating while I sat to frightened to speak, still to stunned to form any plausible string of words together.

“Who was it who offered you the position Jake?”

I looked at Da and swallowed. “Erm… it was Mr Pole Da,” I replied.

Da nodded his head and continued eating. Thaddeus E Pole or Tadpole as he was called around the factory was the supervisor in charge of the workshop staff. It was his responsibility to hire and fire steel workers, and while he was begrudgingly respected by the floor labourers, but no one really liked him.

“When would you be leaving?” Da asked.

“End of the month Da,” I replied. It seemed to me that in a sense Da had already accepted that I was going to be leaving, and was preparing for what needed to be done. In my mind though this would not balance itself out, as I still had no idea what mom was going to say about it all.

On the one hand it seemed Da was saying I could go, yet on the other Ma was adamant that I couldn’t. I was completely confused.

“Well I’ve got two questions for you son,” Da’s statement breaking into my thoughts.

“You have every reason to want to go, and every right to expect to go, but you do realise son that if you choose to do this there is no turning back. You do not quit, you do not cry, you do not give up! Do you understand this Jacob?”

Da was looking straight at me. His eyes were deadly serious and it shook me to the core. I looked at him afraid. What could I possibly say to him that would sound acceptable?

I glanced down at my plate and thought. So this was Da giving me his blessing, but masking it with a careful warning not to let the family name down. That was what he was driving at. No shame on the Cummins family because of me.

I looked up at my father and smiled. “Da, you can count on me to commit to a fine innings.”

Da smiled quietly and went back to eating.

“You said there were two questions Da?”

He nodded slowly, contemplating his words as he chewed.

“This is not easy for me to say to you son.” He looked up at me, his eyes softened and moist. My heart suddenly reached out to this man. He was my father and he was taking great measures to consider my feelings and treat me as an adult, and I truly respected…. No even loved him for it.

“You leave this house as my son, with all the privileges that being so provides Jacob, but when you get home from Africa, you return a man, and as such this means you stand on your own two feet. Do you understand what I mean by this son?”

My heart trembled. So this was it. If I wanted to act as a man then my father expected me to continue to be a man. So it wasn’t just about letting down the family name, he also meant that if I chose my independence it was a decision I made that could not accept failure as an outcome.

My father was a hard man, a pure bread northern steel man. He’d worked hard all his life. Even when he’d moved to South Wales in search of work he’d always earned his keep and made his way. When he met my mother in the Welsh Valleys he’d promised to always keep and never forsake her and he had honoured that promise.

When as a family we’d returned to County Durum in 1898 he’d gone straight to work in the steel foundry, even taking a cut in pay to ensure that he had a job. No matter what the consequences of his actions, he’d always stepped up to the mark and taken his responsibility fairly.

And this now was what he expected of me. Maturity. I realised that making the decision was as much about becoming a man as it was an adventure, as much as it was an experience and as much as it was a complete risk.

Failure if I decided to do this was not an option.

“I think I understand Da,” I said quietly.

“I know you do son,” he replied reaching across the table to pat me on the hand affectionately. It was the first time in as long as I could remember that my father had made and emotional gesture of this manner.

I didn’t know what to say. I looked up at him, tears forming in my own eyes.

“I won’t let you down Da. I promise, I won’t let you down.”

“I know Jacob. You have already made me a proud father son, and you’ll make me even prouder as every day passes.”

I could no longer help it. I rushed off my seat, racing around the table and flung my arms around my father hugging him tightly around the neck.

“I love you Da,” I cried into his neck.

He reached up and put his hand on my arm and just held me like that, waiting for me to settle.

When I’d calmed and my breathing began to return to normal my Da said something to me that will be burnt in my mind like a brand till the day I die.

He said, “Jacob, I don’t speak of these things very often, but I want you to know that I love you dearly son, you are very, very precious to me.”

I didn’t have words for the second time that day.

For the very first time I saw that the iron hard man I considered the rock of our family wasn’t just the leader of this unit, he was also a warm and kind human being who could reach out and touch your heart with just a few simple words.

My father really moved me today, and in ways that I’ll never forget. Good ways. Ways that I hope one day I am able to emulate.

“What about Ma,” I whispered.

“You leave your Ma to me son, I’ll sort it out.”

That was all we said that night. After I release my father from my hug we washed the dishes together in silence and I then retired to my room.

Da would have gone and sat on the front steps of the house and smoked his pipe as he did every night after dinner. He’d sit out there and smoke and chat to the passers by. In the five years we’d live on Auckland Road my Da had become a fixture of the street in the evenings. Come rain or shine he could be found out there having a puff on his pipe.

Sometime later in the evening, I’d become remotely aware of my Ma and Da’s voices in their room. It seemed they talked for many hours, late into the morning perhaps. Whatever the outcome, I knew that I was going to Africa in a few weeks time. My time had come and my destiny awaited me.

This was my time, time for Jacob Cummins to step into the shoes of my father before me and become a man.