Shining Threads Read Free

are saying there will be track laid all over Lancashire and even over the Pennines into Yorkshire. Many believe that railway travel will become cheaper and
that eventually everyone, even the poorer classes will be in on it.’
    Both boys sat up and their young faces glowed with interest. They had been to London once, by coach on the rutted, bone-shaking turnpike roads. Though the onset of the journey had been of great
excitement to them as young boys, twenty-four hours later it had become so tedious to their restless minds and bodies they had decided it was of no interest, nor the several days they had spent in
their father’s company being shown the ‘sights’ of London. Give them the open moorland, the excitement of being part of a walking line of guns every autumn, shooting the grouse,
the pheasant, the young birds hand-reared expressly for the purpose of a gentleman’s sport. The thrill of Squire Longworth’s hunt was what they enjoyed, leaping hedges and ditches, wild
gallops across open fields, the fox no more than a breath away, the hounds giving voice on a frost-bitten winter’s morning. They wished to be gentlemen, in the company of other gentlemen,
following the fine and gentlemanly pursuits their pedigreed friends followed.
    But the railway train! Would that not make a difference? The idea of moving at great speed, to Liverpool where no doubt there would be fascinations dear to the hearts of the young men they
almost were; to Manchester, now that Oldham and Crossfold were connected , and whatever heady temptations lay there, and even, as the men of steam predicted, through the tunnel they were to
dig beneath the Pennine chain and on to the ‘other side’ where God alone knew what delights might await them.
    ‘It might be worth seeing, brother, what d’you think? When Father said we were to go I was not particularly concerned but it might be fun, you know. We’ve never been to
Rochdale.’
    ‘Yes, we have. We went with Mother once to see some dreary Chapman relative, don’t you remember?’
    ‘No, I can’t say I do.’
    ‘Of course you do. My God, Pearce, your memory is as bad as some old woman’s.’
    ‘And who are you calling an old woman?’
    ‘If the cap fits . . .’
    ‘Would you like to stand up and say that?’
    ‘With the greatest of pleasure. A bloody nose would look well on you next Wednesday.’
    ‘And a black eye for you, brother.’
    The quick, snarling Greenwood anger slipped its leash and lifted both boys to their feet, their eyes flinty blue, their black brows dipping furiously as they clenched strong brown hands into
fists, ready, each one, should it be needed to kill the other to prove himself right. But Tessa sprang up, stepping between them as she had done a hundred times – when it suited her –
before a blow was struck.
    ‘And what about me?’ she snapped. ‘Why can’t I go with you on the train? Who declared it should be you two and not me? I’m just as interested in the railway train and in travel and would dearly love to go to Rochdale. Miss Copeland told me it is situated in the most beautiful valley and that the manor of Rochdale was once owned by Lord
Byron.’
    Both boys looked confused, not perfectly certain who Lord Byron was though they had an idea he might be some sort of literary person and as such surely of no interest to their cousin who held
books in as much contempt as they did. But she was merely clouding the issue and well she knew it.
    ‘You can’t be serious.’ Pearce lowered his lists as Drew did.
    ‘Why not? Why can’t I go if you can?’
    ‘There are to be no ladies included, that’s why.’
    ‘And why not?’ Her eyes snapped furiously.
    Drew shrugged. ‘I suppose because the gentlemen imagine they will not be interested.’
    ‘Mother is, and Aunt Kit and they haven’t been invited either, have they? Oh, they can go and stand on the platform and watch the gentlemen have all the fun but they are not to ride
on the