Strange Short Stories

"Finished work at last,” thought Albert.

He had endured another long, hard working shift in one of the local iron-works. The shift had started at six in the morning and should have finished by two in the afternoon. Today he had been given extra hours to work because of an accident in his part of the works; a labourer had been struck by molten iron which had spilt from a ladle and exploded upon contact with the damp ground.

Albert kept working until shortly after six in the evening because of the potential loss in production caused by an absent worker. The loss could be made up but it required some extra working despite the two to ten shifts arriving on time.

He was finally released, possibly because the foreman had continued to ‘overlook’ his presence in the foundry shop and kept him labouring away. He had grafted for some twelve hours without a break, from the accident occurring mid-way through his 6 am to 2 pm shift.

He had been shovelling moulding sand from the emptied casting boxes into his wheelbarrow and from there back to the main storage hopper for re-use. He had to think fast and watch out as much as possible for the yellow hot, glowing molten metal almost continuously being poured into the prepared moulds from the large ladles.

Serious accidents did sometime occur and this latest one had involved a work colleague, another labourer on similar duties. He had been struck by a large explosion of flying hot molten iron as a ladle full of it tipped over unexpectedly spilling its contents onto the damp floor.

The labouring that Albert was involved in was back-breaking continuous work reserved for the fittest young men but it provided a decent wage for an otherwise unskilled man; Albert would regularly collect his wages on a Friday afternoon and take home some 15s 6½d (about 80p in today’s money) for a week’s hard graft.

His skin and clothes were regularly darkened by the fine black dust that pervaded the foundry shops, the old hands often coughing up the stuff from its invasion into their lungs. Further into the depths of these massive sheds where the big casts were made, the dust could be much worse but Albert had no choice if he was told to go to work there. Thankfully, that had not happened for the previous couple of weeks. 

The other problem was the one that had nearly killed him; the violent explosion as the molten metal had hit the cold wet floor. Most of the men pouring the hot metal from the suspended ladle into the prepared sand casting boxes had experienced it at some time.

When a piece of molten metal hit skin it usually burnt its way into the flesh before cooling to solidify sufficiently for it to stop its painful progress. Many were the men working here that carried pock marked faces, pouring molten metal from the ladles slung on chains, into the prepared sand moulds; it was almost a badge of office.

Rarely did the men here see the events of this morning; a massive spill as a full ladle came off its suspension chains. Albert had once witnessed a ladle losing its tilting lock to slowly pivot forward pouring the molten iron in a continuous stream onto the floor.

On that occasion it had not exploded, thankfully, but it had created a red and yellow rapidly expanding lake, bubbling with the gasses released by contact with the cold sand floor. One man cornered by the rapidly expanding lake had no option but to run through it to escape being burnt to death. He had succeeded but only at the expense of his boots catching alight and his feet suffering severe burns as he got clear.

Albert was happy doing his labouring work and did not want to get involved in the casting process; he could leave that and the associated risks to others.

Albert realised that somehow he had escaped the explosion and just kept on with his shovelling because if the foreman saw him slacking he would most likely lose his job. Now his time was over and with the foreman waving in his direction, so he thought, this told him that it was time to clock off.

He placed his shovel in the wheelbarrow by the side of the foreman’s office, without any comment. The foreman just about ignored him; nothing new there. His barrow and shovel were left where they belonged, when not being used, then he moved to clock off and make his way out through the main gates as quickly as he could.

Albert had been keeping a penny back each week from his wages. He normally gave his wages, mostly still in their brown paper packet, to his partner Sal, his good natured, common-law wife. She didn’t mind that the packet was opened as Bert, as she preferred to call him, was one of the rare types of working man who would give their wives most of their earnings.

It was not unusual, however, for wives of many other men to be given barely enough to pay for the household needs to survive. These sorts of husband somehow managed to find their way home but from one of the local pubs, much the worse for wear and with little of their wages left to give to their wives.

Bert had been saving the odd penny each week for a good reason, a special idea he had, which this week would come to fruition. He had accumulated eleven pennies of the shilling he needed and these were tucked away in a leather pouch he kept secreted in a deep trouser pocket.

The walk home from the foundry in the fading late afternoon light, taking him over the railway lines and through the local market place was a long slog for weary legs. But he knew that he could never be weary of the love of his life, the lady who had been standing by him for the last three years.

Living with his partner Sally, his wife to anyone else, they had been able to find an old street house to rent. They had stayed together without any serious problems finding a simple great pleasure just to be with each other.

Arguments between them had been few; loving had been many.

A gentle touch of hands here, a hug or cuddle there, a sweet tender kiss before his morning trudge to the foundry and with a sandwich in a napkin for lunch and another on his return home, Bert and Sal were happy with their basic and simple life together.

They possessed little of value between them except for their love of each other. Albert had decided, however, that he needed to spoil Sally as a show of this love and for weeks had been patiently keeping a little secret to himself until he had accrued the funds he needed.

Albert always walked through the market place on his way home and with the money he had saved, found the item he had seen and wanted some weeks ago. It was still there on the market stall waiting to be bought; a decorative wire bracelet. It was in all probability made only from cheap low quality gold but it looked so nice and would surely be appreciated by Sally, especially as it was her birthday today.

With the coins in his pocket and under the awning, the display lit by a hissing ‘Tilly’ lamp on this dull day, he bargained with the market trader to reduce the cost of the bracelet. He only had eleven pence for what was being displayed at twelve and a half pence and he did not wish to dig further into his wage packet.

Sal counted out every penny each Friday and would be a little upset possibly if more than the one single penny was missing. Albert retrieved another single penny from his wage packet and with the eleven pence he already had, the trader gave in and the bracelet was bought at the reduced cost of twelve pence. The trader even wrapped the bracelet, most kindly, in a small sheet of coloured paper; this was luxury and a kindness indeed.

The house they shared was one of many in a terraced row with two small rooms upstairs and two equally small rooms downstairs, the back one a sort of kitchen with an old sink and one cold water tap.

There was a back yard surrounded by high brick walls and an outside basic toilet of a soil bin and a plank with a hole. It was basic but somewhat more than many people had to call their home.

They also enjoyed a black leaded fire range in the front room with a small side oven. Sal would employ this for a little baking of bread on a Sunday when the fire would be lit for nearly the full day. This was much better than the homes they had both come from in the old part of town, hurriedly built as the iron works boom took off.

Those houses of their parents had only one room upstairs and one downstairs. They had both come from relative poverty but in coming together had discovered a new richness to life.

Jobs were no longer easy to come-by, despite the apparent boom in industry, but Albert had impressed someone when he turned up that day looking for work. Perhaps it was because of the muscles he had developed while labouring on a farm out in the country and also, no doubt, from the manner in which he could handle a shovel that got him the job.

Fifteen shillings, six and a half pence each week was good money for unskilled labouring and it was sufficient, just about, to pay the weekly rent, to buy enough food to live on with a little left over for Sally to manage the household on. She was careful with the money she received to be able pay for those things that cropped up from time to time, like thread to sow patches on Bert’s trousers or jacket.

Money would have to be saved if new clothes were to be found; thankfully Bert’s trousers were hard wearing and would last a few years more.

Albert, unlike many of the men he worked with, did not head straight for the pub, especially on Friday or Saturday night to drown his woes; he preferred to be home in the arms of his love. Sitting in a tin bath, before the front room fire, which was half filled with tepid water heated in pans on the burning coals, he scrubbed as much dirt as possible off with Sally helping by cleaning his back. She used water from a pan that had been on the fire and Albert was pleased when it was not as cold as when it came out of the single tap over the sink in the back room.

She would also take and shake his clothes in the back yard to get the most of the black dirt out and on Saturday afternoon scrub them out in cold water, in the same tin bath. Winter was always a problem in this cold northern town and his clothes would often have to remain shaken but unwashed until the warm weather returned.

The small amount of coal they could afford, kept the one leaded iron open fire ticking over. It was usually sufficient for a little baking in the side oven or heating a kettle of water for a hot drink of weak tea. It provided a little extra comfort when they came together during the evenings.

Sally did not lay a new fire in the morning, as Albert thought, but only an hour before he was due home. She continued to suffer in the cold of the day for the sake of their love and to save a few more pennies to repair their old shoes, mend their clothes or buy another stick of furniture.

She was good at budgeting, making the money go round. Albert was really proud of her though having no idea how she managed to budget the way she did. He always considered this as some sort of secret of womanhood and did not wish to interfere.

They had the small bed upstairs that Sally’s mum, Ida, had given her. She had also been given a set of sheets, two old stuffed pillows and two thick blankets on the day she moved out of her parent’s family home to be with Albert. She had been an only child and mum was always generous towards her with what little she possessed and could give away.

The bed was a little small for two adults but that only made their warmth for each other a pleasant reality at night time.

Albert awoke each morning when the knocker-up man went down the street rapping on the windows of those neighbours who could afford him; Sally and Albert couldn’t but relied on the noise from next door’s windows to wake them up. All the men-folk in the street had a job somewhere in the local iron and steel works which meant that they had the same shift timings which was very useful.

Weekday and Sunday shifts were organised in three sets of timings as:

                  Starting at 6 am, finishing at 2 pm;

                  Starting at 2 pm, finishing at 10 pm;

                  And ‘nights’ starting at 10 pm, finishing at 6 am the following day.

The ‘works’ never stopped. Production had to go on for all twenty four hours of every day of every week for the Ironmaster’s profits.

Saturday was a little different. It saw the morning shift working only with the afternoon allowed off generally. This allowed most of the men to attend the local football matches or even take part in one of the many amateur teams. This arrangement was considered most generous.

A few men though, were selected each week and would have to report to their work area to keep the furnaces and cupolas hot on the Saturday afternoon; Albert had seen his share of this extra work. He didn’t play football and the little extra money that could be earned came in very useful.

Because he toiled the full day of Saturday, he was one of the few often granted the whole of Sunday off to rest at home.

 Albert could not afford a single lateness as he had held this job for only eighteen months and had to keep working hard to remain a good worker in his foreman’s eyes; it needed to stay that way.

Sally had been taught some needlecraft by her mother and had searched for a job with a local seamstress but to no avail; there was always hope and she regularly kept her ears open.

Albert had walked home that Friday after his extended shift, stopping off at the market through which he had to walk to reach home. Sally would not be over concerned for him, sometimes it just worked out that he was required to put in a little extra work; the additional few pennies were a bonus when this happened.

As a foundry labourer his weekly take home pay for Sally paid the 5s/- house rent, 2s/- for a sack of coal every fortnight, and about 7s-6d for food and milk. Assuming everything was going well, Sally would have a shilling left over each week, but there was always something that was needed to keep their home going. A penny or two would go into an old tobacco tin under the bed which was usually a float for day to day spending, though not enough for saving.

Albert came into their home by way of the long cobbled alleyway between the rears of the rows of terraced housing. This led by the back yard gate into the sparse and very bare and grim back yard. Going through the back door from the yard into the rear room, as always, he was greeted by Sally with a gentle hug.

Albert took the opportunity to keep hold of Sally, pulling her tight against him. This raised a surprised smile on her face but she enjoyed these intimate moments when they were least expected. The dirt on his clothes was put out of her mind.

“My God, I love you Sal,” Albert gently whispered in her ear.

“And I love you, my hard working man,” Sally replied, not being at all concerned about some of the black, sweaty dirt on Bert’s face that was now rubbing off onto her’s.

Releasing Sally, Albert stepped back and reached into his deep trouser pocket to pull out something within wrapping paper of a delicate shade of green. A small, square shaped package, tied with a delicate piece of yellow ribbon was held in his grubby hand; the stall holder had done Bert proud.

“This is for you, Sal. Happy Birthday my lovely lady,” Albert spoke gently in almost a whisper, finding it a little hard to say the words that he had never spoken before, not quite in this manner anyway.

Sally was taken aback and looked in great surprise at what was being offered to her. Her mouth still open, she took hold of the small, square wrapping and just stood there looking at it.

“How?” she managed.

“I’ve been saving for weeks now, Sal,” Albert replied. “A little here, a little there. Oh you’re worth it, my lovely. Go on, open it Sal. It really is for you because today is a very special day. It’s your birthday.”

Sally pulled the loose end of the bow and the ribbon fell away, dropping to the floor. Sally immediately dropped down to rescue the ribbon and then tuck it into the pocket of her pinny.

She smiled at Albert, “I’m keeping that for later, what a lovely piece of ribbon.”

“Go on,” urged Albert. “Open it.” He was almost as excited as Sal.

With her hard worked fingers, Sally carefully and slowly un-wrapped the firmly folded green paper that formed such a nice envelope. At last, she reached the shiny, golden wire bracelet.

Her mouth dropped wide open once more as she first looked at the bracelet, then at Albert, then back to the bracelet, then back up to Albert. An unusually large smile formed itself across her face as it did Albert’s.

Her eyes showed the surprise she felt but also the love she had so deep in her soul for him; that is until a few tears started to trickle down both her rosy cheeks.

Albert reached forward with his grimy hands to touch the tears, not wishing to use the badly soiled rag in his pocket.

“It’s all right my love,” said Sally. “If I cannot cry at such beauty or at the love you show me, then when can I? Let the tears flow, my love. I will always think of this moment should I find myself ever starting to cry in the future.”

“Put it on, Sal. Let me see you wearing it,” Bert urged, his smile unchanged.

Sal held the gold wire ring in the fingers of one hand while she refolded the paper to slip it into her pinny pocket to join the piece of ribbon. Then she gently offered the golden bracelet to her left hand where it slid easily, the double coil easily expanding to accommodate it. From there it slipped easily into place on to her wrist with the double coil closing back in.

Sally felt so loved. She was finding this almost dream like, a birthday present for her of all things. The first since they had been together. Money had always been tight but Albert had foregone the habits of his workmates, drifting into the boozer on the way home of a Friday night, to profit from saving the pennies he needed to buy her a present.

She found it hard not to stop staring at it as her surprised smile stayed unchanged and the tears continued to trickle over her flushed cheeks. 

“It’s beautiful, beautiful, you wonderful, wonderful man. How did I deserve to find you in this life?” she asked rhetorically. “Which angel was it that sent you to me?”

A deep sense of pride flowed through her along with the warming love that arose from her feet up to her flushed cheeks.

Albert smiled even more at this. Sally was immensely happy, more than Albert had ever imagined she might be. This was the first real cheer that had come into their hard working life in all the time they had been together, and it was truly wonderful.

Sally launched herself at her lover, her hands going round the back of his head to hold him firm and steady while her moist lips engaged fully with his slightly grimy ones. This was the sort of kiss that Bert remembered from the very first days that they had come together.

Love had never really gone away. It had simply been put aside for a lesser version while they had struggled through the arduous times of establishing a home together and the long working hours that curtailed no more than a little comfort. 

Sally disengaged their lips and with something of a glint in her eyes asked him to, “Come on Bert, let‘s get those working clothes off you so you can get into the warm bath in the front room. It will be going cold shortly, but don’t worry; I have a good fire going and will soon heat up a few more pans of water.”

Moving into the front room, she helped take his shirt, trousers and flannel underwear off, and while he stood before the fire, which he thought burnt all day, she took his clothes out into the back yard to give them a good shaking. Coming back inside, she found Albert gently lowering himself into the tepid water of the half filled tin bath.

With a few small handfuls of soft-soap taken from an old bucket that he kept filled each week, he busied himself with removing as much of the grime and dirt off his body and face as he could; the scrubbing brush saw a lot of work at this. Sally waited until he had just about finished then set to work cleaning his back with the now cold, scum laden water in which he sat.

Finished washing, they both towelled him down with an old rag of a towel, finding time for a little flirtatious touching. Albert pulling on his only other shirt and trousers, they both sat together at the old table that Sally’s mum had also given them.

They enjoyed a delicious baked potato each which had been in the heat of the little oven alongside the fire. They were cut open with a small piece of butter now nicely melting inside.

Bert was tired after a longer day than normal and the light was fading outside as the evening wore on. so they both decided to take the last warmth from the dying fire, standing in front of it while in each other’s arms, then head upstairs to get into bed beneath the blankets and stay warm during the chilly night. Morning would come only too soon with the knocker up wandering down their street at 5 am.

They quickly changed into the nightshirts that Sally had put together from some heavy flannelette, again that her mum had provided for her. They were probably the only two people in their street to change into such luxury clothing to go to bed.

In each others arms their intimacy limited to the sensation of each others body next to theirs, Sally could not risk pregnancy just yet, and so they drifted off to sleep. Sally was still wearing her gold bracelet and had vowed to herself that it would never be removed.

§

Albert and Sally woke up together. It was Albert that had awoken first with a start, sufficient to rouse Sally. They both felt refreshed and ready to face the day yet they had not heard the knocker-up and first light was just starting to show through the rags they called curtains.

Putting her arms around Albert, Sally whispered to him. “It’s early my love, too early to go to work. I haven’t heard the window tapping yet. Come back here my love, my lovely man and stay beside me for just a few more minutes more.”

“This is odd, Sal,” he replied resisting the urge to give way to her. “I’m fully awake and feeling so refreshed, yet as you say, the knocker up has not come into the street yet. I have a need to arise Sal. In my heart I need to get out of bed, to go downstairs, and I don’t know why.”

Albert slipped the blankets back and rolled out of bed in his nightshirt. He didn’t feel at all cold, as he would normally, in fact this reminded him of his life in the country before coming into the town. The air was clean; no smell of the foul sulphurous yellow smoke from the furnaces that regularly drifted across town and permeated every gap in the poorly built houses.

Standing by the side of the bed looking down at Sally, he noticed that she was still smiling at him, a happy and very contented smile. Her heart was aglow with the same feelings she had experienced upon their first encounter; she felt like a young girl again. Not that she was old now but the hardships of their life together in town had added years to her.

Looking up at Albert who was still stood where he had alighted from bed, she felt the glow inside increase to an almost unbearable intensity as she stared at his beaming smile. He was happy just looking at his Sal and she felt certain that it was his happiness coming to her; a strange thought but one she did not deny herself.

Sally got out of bed to stand by Albert and then place her arms around him again. They both felt the warmth of each other but something else also. 

“Bert, do you feel it my love?” she asked Bert. “This is like a spring morning. It feels warm standing here and I swear I can smell the grass and hay of your countryside.”

“It surely is strange Sal,” Bert replied. “But I feel so good. I have the urge to go downstairs. It’s a little early I know but come on, let’s go downstairs.”

In their nightshirts they both carefully descended the steep, bare boards of their staircase into the front room. Normally, Albert would make for a slice of bread to spread some cold fat from the frying pan used not for last nights meal but one several days before. But he did not feel at all hungry and didn’t bother.

“Sal, are you going to put the kettle on the embers for a cup of tea,” Bert asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “I should be feeling hungry and in need of a cuppa, but I’m not; how about you?”

“Me neither,” he replied. “Perhaps in a little while, before I get ready for work. I should be in need a drink by then.”

“Sal, my lovely, come with me outside,” Bert asked Sal. “I need to go outside. I don’t know why but I do. Come, come,” he urged as he took her hand and stepped towards the front door.

Sally didn’t offer any resistance because she found that it was also in her mind to step outside on such a lovely morning.

Stepping through the front door onto the grimy street, facing the fronts of all those hard faced terraced houses, they stood there in their nightshirts, not feeling at all embarrassed or odd. This was not something they had ever done, nor seen any of the street’s occupants do. There was not a soul to be seen, the street was empty as the early morning light started to creep, along its stoic, hard stone walls and the badly cracked paintwork of the windows and doors.

Bert looked into Sal’s eyes as he drew her close to him. “I think we should take a little walk towards the early light to catch the warmth and beauty of the rising sun,” he suggested.

“Oh yes,” Sally sighed, not knowing why, but it just seemed to make sense.

Nobody had ever walked down any street in their night clothes and they both knew this. But it made no difference; they were finding a loving and beautiful happiness in stepping forward just holding hands together.

Whatever the neighbours might think, if they never got out of bed, it was up to them; Bert and Sal did not care. They were not the slightest bit bothered.

A brief thought had crossed Sal’s mind that they might get arrested, but in an instant that disappeared; everything seemed right, so perfect, somehow.

 They walked with a gentle ease, eastward, towards that early morning first light and felt the magic of this delightful morning coursing through their very souls.

The sky was now lit a beautiful salmon pink colour with bright red streaks from the emergence of the sun as it started its climb over the horizon. The flimsy clouds, drifting carelessly now, had bright red and pink tinges to their edges that faced towards the rising sun.

Sally’s golden bracelet seemed to catch this light and shimmered nicely as her attention was brought to it. This only added to her feeling of love towards her Bert, as warm as the scented air they now breathed in so easily.

“Oh my lovely Bert, why have we not done this before?” Sal asked of Bert without taking her eyes of her beautiful bracelet. “I feel ten years younger in this wonderful, clean and delightfully scented country air.” Her words just came easy and she realised that she was speaking in a way that she had not done before.

Sally had to speak, she had to. “The smoke from the works is behind us Bert, and those green hills, there in front of us, seem so inviting.”

Then she realised, and with a little uncertainty in her voice she continued.

“Bert. We should not be able to see the hills. They are on the other side of town. The Town Hall, the Variety and all those other houses are between us and the hills. Why can we see the hills?”

No sooner had she asked the question when she realised that she did not need the answer and her Bert would never answer. She looked up at him and saw again that loving big smile that had always melted her heart.

A little kiss, their hands still holding each other’s and they continued to walk towards the lush rolling hills in the distance behind which the sun was rising quickly and bathing them in its warmth.

And then a realisation came to them both. With the same thoughts coursing through their minds and without speaking, they once again paused to look into each others eyes at which the realisation seemed to reinforce itself somehow. They had been outside their house, in the street only a few minutes before and had barely walked but a dozen steps towards a countryside that should not be there.

 Yet their bare feet were stepping gently amid a lush green pasture of deep grass to which the early morning dew still clung.

They both felt the pleasant and not unsettling surprise as they turned to look back to where they had come from.

Some distance away and down beneath them at the foot of these pleasant rolling hills and now several miles away was the smog from the industry cloaking and choking their town sufficiently that most buildings were hidden beneath the suffocating blanket.

They turned again to look at each other and in their eyes there was nothing but love, a love for each other and a love that seemed to permeate their very being and even everything around them.

But they felt no panic at trying to figure out where they were or how far they had come with but a few steps. It just didn’t seem to matter, on this the most beautiful morning they had ever known. This was a part of a realisation that seemed so natural, so real and it permeated deep to their innermost thoughts.

The warmth of the sun now well above the horizon gently played upon them. There had been no sensation of the cold of an early morning beforehand, although they were wearing only night wear with no socks, shoes or boots; only bare feet. The air around them was warm; the grass though heavy with dew was not cold but most pleasant.

Again this concern lasted but for a fleeting moment. They had left their hard, dirty and difficult life down there behind them.

They even considered that there would be adequate time to return home to prepare for work but in their sense of elation and with a certain confidence, they had not the slightest inclination to do so. These thoughts vaporised as quickly as the dampness beneath their feet and they continued on their way.

Every thought of one was now the thought of the other. Their happiness was something neither needed to express to the other, they both felt it at one and the same time. Albert wrapped his arms round Sally and she him, and in that warm embrace new warmth was felt, everlasting warmth that again reached deep into their very essence.

As Bert warm lips embraced with Sally’s he glanced back again to from where they had come. It was now ten times further away than a few moments ago but he did not want to think about it, nor did he care, it just didn’t matter anymore. The illusion could last forever, he really did not care and in fact he wanted the magic to go on forever. His eyes closed and he allowed himself to travel into the pleasure of Sally’s presence and let her warm lips take him completely.

For a few moments they did not separate but with a large smile Sally gently pulled away from Albert.

“I cannot believe how wonderful this is Bert,” she exclaimed slowly. “One of us must be dreaming surely but I cannot figure out which of us it is, and I don’t think it matters; does it?”

“I don’t think we are dreaming Sal,” he replied in a gentle voice that Sal had never heard him use before. “This is so real, look around us, feel the grass between your toes, feel our warmth together. Let us walk a little further, I have a feeling that we are meant to reach some sort of ending to this walk and it appears to be only a short way off now.”

§

The local constable could not fathom out why Sally should be found as she was.

Sally’s neighbour, with whom she was on talking terms, had not seen her that morning and becoming concerned, called over the local constable, walking down their street on his regular beat.

He had had to force the front door with a burly shoulder to gain entry into the house. He discovered Sally in bed upstairs, icy in death’s grip. Not a mark upon her but with a broad smile on a happy yet grey and stone cold face.

Constable Jenkins was upset at this turn of events, he had seen many bad things but this touched his soul.

“Poor Sally,” he spoke his thoughts out loud to the neighbour.

“Maybe she couldn’t continue with her life after the death of her Bert. That was a terrible foundry explosion he got caught up in. But why is she smiling? That doesn’t make sense.”

§