Copper Kingdom Read Free Page A

Davie’s tongue. Mali walked behind, head bent, staring down into the dust of the lane without really seeing it.
    â€˜We’ll go down past the pluck, girl,’ her father’s voice drifted back to her. ‘It’s more private that way.’
    Though Mali did not look left or right, she was aware of the silent neighbours standing in doorways, paying their last respects the only way they could. Mali’s dark hair drifted across her face, blown by the cold wind, and she was thankful to be hidden from curious stares, however kindly.
    The waters of the pluck nestled in the valley, a natural lake formed from many hillside streams and now they gleamed richly copper, illuminated by the flames that flew forth from the forest chimneys above the works. Mali glanced around her as though she was witnessing the spectacular display for the first time rather than being born and bred amid the copper.
    Smoke trailed upwards, green and thick, pouring from the tall stacks to mingle with the sky’s grey clouds. The sun was dying now and had small chance of competing with the rich cauldron of colour that lit the banks of the River Swan.
    The cart shook precariously as it moved across the wooden struts of the bridge spanning the swollen waters. Mali seemed to be walking in a dream, not thinking or feeling but keeping her emotions tightly in check.
    Above her loomed the twin slopes of Kilvey and the Town Hill, large and black against the sky. Mali stumbled a little and forced herself to concentrate on the pitted track that was leading her around the mountain side and away from the works. The dusty roadway curved gently, sloping down towards the graveyard. The effects of the copper dust did not reach this far and Mali wondered suddenly why the smoke should kill everything beautiful in its path.
    â€˜There it is, Dan-y-Graig Cemetery.’ Davie spoke softly. Mali saw him pause in mid stride and his shoulders stiffened as he lifted his hand to his eyes, straining to see into the distance.
    â€˜It seems the Richardsons are burying their dead too, girl,’ he said huffily, as though affronted. ‘See there are six fine horses and an elegant hearse and God knows how many carriages. There’s no justice.’
    The cemetery was divided into two parts by a low, thick hedge that formed a barrier. On the one side along the path which Davie took was a piece of ground bristling with wooden crosses while the other part of the graveyard was resplendent with gracious marble headstones.
    Mali, watching the carriages roll by, saw that the one nearest her was occupied by a stately woman wearing a black fur cape and a hat that sat hugely on glossy dark hair. And then the cortege was past and Mali became aware that Davie was drawing Big Jim to a halt.
    â€˜This is the spot I’ve picked out for my Jinny,’ he said sombrely. ‘Just here underneath the trees with the wall running alongside.’
    The gaping hole that was Mam’s last resting place was all ready to receive the coffin, for Davie had worked off and on as a gravedigger during the last weeks. He had spent several hours a day at the cemetery, toiling so that his wife could have a decent resting place at very little cost.
    Davie struggled to slide the coffin from the sloping cart, easing it into the ground. His strength was great but even he felt the strain, for after he had put Jinny into the earth, he leaned panting against the tree trying to recover his breath.
    After a time, he took up the spade and filled in the grave. Mali bit her lip, wishing there was a minister from the chapel present, just so a few holy words could be read over Mam. Mali stared up into the branches of the tree that was barren now but in spring would be heavy with blossoms, and her grief was almost too much to bear.
    Davie had finished filling in the grave and was mopping his brow. With an uncharacteristic gesture, Mali moved forward and slipped her hand into her father’s