by Val Wood
I won’t, she thought. She’s that sharp she would probably guess. She quickly gathered up a loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese, then took a thick slice of pork from the larder and wrapped them all in a cloth and hid them at the back of a shelf. She had no money of her own, but there was housekeeping money kept in a tin on the shelf in the kitchen and she took most of it and put it in her apron pocket.
‘My word but it’s cold.’ Rosa blew on her hands as she came in only a few minutes later.
‘Is it?’ Delia answered briefly. ‘I’m hot with building up that fire.’
Rosa glanced at her. ‘You look rather flushed. Are you all right?’
‘Yes – no, I feel a bit giddy. I’ll get a breath of air in a minute and then have a lie-down.’ She waited until Rosa was busying herself with something, then crept into the larder, picked up the parcel and went towards the door.
‘You’ll need a shawl,’ Rosa called. ‘It’s bitter out there.’
‘Yes, I’ve got one,’ Delia said. ‘Don’t fuss, and don’t forget to lock ’door behind me.’ She gave a little satisfied smirk. What luck that Rosa had gone out for the potatoes! John Byrne must have been watching and waiting until he knew that she was alone. He trusted her, not Rosa. She wrapped the shawl around her shoulders and tucked it over the parcel and set off down the yard. Matthew was opening up the door of the woodstore and she stopped in dismay.
‘What’s up, Delia?’ he asked.
‘Nothing! I’m just coming out for some air.’
‘That’s not like you! Well, don’t hang about. Somebody said they’d seen a fellow crossing ’fields and he couldn’t recognize who it was.’
‘Oh, everybody’s jumpy,’ she said. ‘They’ll all be seeing John Byrne in their dreams, but he’ll be well away by now.’
‘Mebbe,’ he said abruptly, ‘but we won’t take any chances.’ He went inside the store and brought out a bench, then took an axe which was hanging from the wall and started to chop up wood, throwing it into a pile just inside the door.
She watched him for a few minutes. John Byrne wouldn’t come whilst he was there. What was she to do? She walked down to the kitchen garden, looking casually about her, but there was no sign of anyone. She lingered as long as she could, then walked slowly back towards the woodstore where Matthew had his back to her. At the side of the store was a pile of sacks and moving quickly and quietly she picked one up, put the parcel of food and money into it and threw it against the wall, away from the others. If John Byrne should come back, then he should find it easily enough and she would come out later to see if it had gone.
After she and Rosa had served the men their dinner, she made an excuse to go to her room. She wanted to think again about Byrne and how he had excited her – her body throbbed when she thought about him – but she wanted also to pack a bag, ready to leave when he should say so.
‘I think I’ve left my window open,’ she said. ‘I’ll just go up and close it. Don’t want John Byrne climbing in,’ she joked.
‘It’s no laughing matter, Delia,’ Jim said bluntly. ‘He’s dangerous. There’s a man dead, a woman raped.’ He seemed nervous and edgy and had eaten very little.
His father too was restless, his eyes glistening and darting around the room and towards the door and windows. ‘He’ll have gone,’ he said, and there was a jubilance in his voice. ‘He won’t wait around here, knowing that ’rope’s waiting for him.’
Jim’s face went white and Delia stopped on the stairs and turned around, her hand on the stair door. ‘Rope?’ she whispered.
‘Aye, they’ll hang him right enough,’ Harry interrupted, chewing on a piece of meat, then removing it from his mouth with his fingers he placed it on the side of his plate. ‘If they can catch him.’
‘But he didn’t – what if he didn’t do it?’ Delia questioned nervously. ‘He might be innocent.’
‘He’ll not be innocent. Not him,’ James Drew muttered.
‘How do you know, Da?’ Matthew stared at his father. ‘What do you know of him? He came here to our farm. Why did he come?’
His father glanced at him and then at Harry, who was listening most intently. Young Bob too was watching him with his mouth open.
‘He’d – er, he’d seen Rosa, wanted to meet her. I told him he couldn’t, but he came back.’ Drew’s face was set rigid and he clasped and unclasped his hands. ‘He’ll get a load of shot in his backside if he comes again,’ he said roughly, and glanced at Rosa, who stared incredulously at him as he went on, ‘I’ll not have you walking out with him, Rosa, do you hear? You’ll not see him again!’
He pushed back his chair and, picking up his jacket, he signalled to Harry and Bob to hurry and finish their dinner and follow him. ‘There’s summat wrong here,’ Matthew said as Harry and Bob went out. He seemed bewildered. He looked at Jim and then at Delia, who was still standing by the stair door and looking as if she was about to cry.
‘It’s not true,’ Delia whispered. ‘He wasn’t interested in Rosa. It was me. It was me he wanted to see.’ She gave a small sob and picking up her skirts she ran up the stairs.
Jim pushed back his chair. ‘You’re best keeping out of it, Matthew.’
‘Keeping out of it!’ Matthew stood up to face his brother and raised his voice. ‘Keeping out of what? What’s going on?’
Jim didn’t answer and walked out of the room. Matthew turned to Rosa. ‘Will somebody tell me what’s happening! What’s all ’secrecy about? Rosa!’
Rosa heard the exasperation and anger in his raised voice and said quietly and decisively, ‘I’ll tell you what I know.’ She drew a chair up to the fire and sat down. ‘There’s a mystery here,’ she confessed, ‘and it’s something to do with my father, your father and the two Irishmen.’
He came and stood beside her. ‘Your father and my father? But Da didn’t know your father, at least not well!’
‘He did! And I think that Jim did too,’ she said. ‘I think – and I’m only guessing – that the Irishmen are blackmailing your father into handling smuggled goods.’
He gave a short wry laugh. ‘Da! Being blackmailed? Over what? He’s a puritan! What could anybody possibly find to accuse him of?’ He crouched down beside her. ‘You have to be wrong over that, Rosa. Not Da.’
‘No,’ she insisted. ‘I’m not wrong. That night when I went out late, I saw your da and Jim and the Irishmen loading crates onto a waggon at Stone Creek. There was a ship, a cutter, setting sail from the harbour, and a coggy boat coming in. The coggy boat had crates on it too. John Byrne caught me watching and made me go down to ’creek with him. He told Jim and your father that he would hold me hostage in case your father informed ’law.’ She took a deep breath. What a relief to be able to tell him the truth. ‘That’s why he came to call on me, he was really checking on your father. He said if a whisper got out about the smuggled goods, then he would run and take me with him.’
She shuddered. The very thought of it made her tremble. There was such hatred in him. He would have no mercy on her, she was convinced of that. ‘There’s something else,’ she said.
‘What?’ His voice was dull, as if all the energy had been knocked out of him.
‘I only went out so late because I wanted to see another ship that was moored out on ’river. I’d seen it before, do you remember? Henry had told me that it was a Dutch fluyt, and – ’ She searched his face, wondering if he would understand her. ‘And there was something about it that made me curious, I wanted to see if it was still there.’
‘And was it?’
‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘It was, and John Byrne told me, when I explained to him why I was there, that it had been my father’s ship.’
‘But that was years ago,’ Matthew interrupted.
She nodded. ‘That’s what your father said, when Byrne asked if he was still doing business with him. Mr Drew also said that it wasn’t my father’s flag, that it had probably had numerous owners since the Customs had requisitioned it.’ She stopp
ed, worn out by the trauma of the telling and wondering where was the sense of it all.
Matthew drew his hand over his face. ‘So Da had known your father well! I can’t believe that I didn’t know any of this,’ he muttered. ‘How could they keep it from me?’ Then he grew angry. ‘And how could they let you become involved? My own brother. My own father!’
‘Jim lost his temper,’ she said. ‘He fought with John Byrne and said that he should let me go. That’s when Byrne said that I’d be held hostage until the goods were safely away.’
‘And now he’s on ’run, wanted for murder.’ Matthew considered. ‘But he’ll not go without his dues. So where is he? And where’ve they stored ’run goods?’
They heard a sound on the stairs and Matthew got quickly to his feet and opened the door. Delia was sitting on the steps, tears coursing down her face.
‘It’s not fair,’ she wailed. ‘It was my chance at getting away. And now it’s all ruined.’
‘What?’ Matthew frowned at his sister. ‘You’ve been listening,’ he accused sharply. ‘What’s spoilt? What are you talking about?’
‘John Byrne,’ she sobbed, and put her head on her knees. ‘He was going to come back for me.’
Matthew took hold of her and brought her into the room. ‘What do you mean – come back for you? Has he been here?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded and put her hand to her mouth. ‘I feel sick,’ she mumbled.
‘When?’ Matthew shook her by the shoulders. ‘When did he come?’
Delia looked shamefaced and hung her head. ‘When Rosa was digging up potatoes for dinner.’
Rosa gave a gasp. For him to be so close! ‘But why didn’t you say, Delia? Did he threaten you?’
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘He didn’t have to. He made promises to me.’ Her mouth trembled. ‘I would have gone with him.’ She swallowed hard and wiped the tears from her face. ‘I wanted to,’ she admitted. ‘I really wanted to. He said – he said—’ She couldn’t finish, and Rosa looked in alarm at Matthew.
‘Did he – ? He didn’t hurt you, Delia?’ Rosa said softly. ‘He didn’t touch you?’
Delia gazed at her, then looked down and rapidly blinked away tears. ‘No,’ she said, and Rosa knew that she wasn’t telling the truth. ‘Nowt that I couldn’t cope with anyway. He was onny here a few minutes. He asked me to get him some food,’ she confessed, ‘and some money – I took it out of ’housekeeping tin.’
‘Well, Da won’t be able to complain about that,’ Matthew said grimly. ‘Not after all he’s done! But where is Byrne now?’ he demanded of Delia.
‘I don’t know. I left ’money and parcel of food by the woodstore.’ She took a handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose. ‘That’s where I was going when I saw you chopping wood. He told me he’d found a place to hide.’
Matthew gave a snort of anger. ‘So he’s right here under our noses. Still here on Sunk Island!’ He grabbed his coat. ‘Well, he’ll not stay hidden for long. I’ll root him out. Him and his brother.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
BUT MATTHEW DIDN’T find him, even though he searched the barns and haylofts, woodstores, stables, henhouses, cow byres and pig pens. He even searched the waggons and carts, piercing fiercely with his hay fork in every pile of loose straw or steaming manure. He also had angry words with Jim and told him that he would get to the bottom of the secrecy and web of lies which he and his father had been spinning.
Jim looked shamefaced, but only muttered something about blood on his hands and an uneasy conscience, and Matthew had glared at him, knowing that there was something more that his brother could tell him, yet he didn’t feel that now was the time for confession. Not until Byrne had been caught.
He didn’t come in until after dark. Jim was sitting morosely over the supper table, but his father had eaten and gone up to his room. Rosa put a bowl of soup in front of Matthew and asked anxiously, ‘Is there no sign of him?’
‘None.’ He took a sip and then pushed the bowl away and put his elbows on the table. ‘I’ve searched every inch of ’homestead. Every corner.’
‘I’ve done it all already,’ Jim muttered. ‘And Da went across to Marsh Farm after ’constable had been. I reckon Byrne’s done a runner.’ He pushed his chair back and stood up. ‘I’ll go and make sure everything’s locked up for ’night,’ he said. ‘Then I’m going to ’Ship for a drink afore I go to bed.’ He looked across at Matthew and added, ‘Do you want to come? We can have a talk.’
‘Aye,’ Matthew answered. ‘In a bit. I’ll catch you up.’
Rosa sat across from Matthew at the table. Delia had gone to her room. She had been very quiet and tearful all afternoon but had rebuffed Rosa angrily when she had asked again if Byrne had hurt her. ‘Just leave it be, will you?’ she had shouted. ‘I’m a fool. I was tekken in by soft words and seductive promises, just like last time. But he’s not got me pregnant if that’s what you mean! He didn’t hurt me. Onny my feelings and they don’t count,’ and she had rushed away upstairs and banged her door behind her.
‘Matthew!’ Rosa said quietly. ‘I’ve been thinking – ’ She stopped, wondering how to say what had been on her mind all afternoon. She too had gone upstairs to her room. The men were out, the fire built up, the supper was prepared and she decided that she deserved some time to herself. She sat on a chair by the window and looked towards the river.
The Humber had always been her consolation in time of distress or anxiety. It was constant and reliable, its grey-brown presence calming and soothing, and even on its turbulent days when the agitated tides rushed and foamed, billowed and surged, she felt it was merely shaking off an ill temper. And when she walked across the land she sometimes thought she could feel its pulsating fluidity beneath her feet, as if she was treading on the Sonke sande of years gone by.
Today it had merged into the brownness of the flat landscape. The fields had been reaped, the pigs and sheep turned onto the land to graze, and the river was only discernible by its shining surface and the ships which showed their white sails above the fields. But the afternoon sky had been dark and ominous above it, and she had given an involuntary shudder and had turned to look in the other direction towards her old home, Marsh Farm, near the bridged North Channel. Across the wide landscape, in the fields and meadows, she had seen groups of men searching in dykes and ditches and hedge bottoms for John Byrne.
‘Yes?’ Matthew said, lifting his head from his deep contemplation of his fingernails. ‘What have you been thinking?’
She knew that he had been angered by the revelation that his father had been involved in the smuggling with the Byrne brothers, and feared that he would be made angrier still by what she had to say now. But it had to be said. She kept her voice low, conscious that Mr Drew was in the house.
‘Jim said – that your father had searched Marsh Farm for a sighting of John Byrne.’
‘Yes, I know he did.’ He gazed at her questioningly. ‘He said there was no sign of him.’
‘Why wouldn’t he let anyone else search?’
Matthew shrugged. ‘We were all looking elsewhere.’
‘He wouldn’t let ’Patrington constable look either.’
He frowned. ‘What are you suggesting?’ His face darkened. ‘Not that Da’s harbouring him?’
‘No. No!’ She was quick to refute it. ‘It’s just that – well, your da will never let anyone near the place, only Jim – and I wondered,’ she hesitated and he urged her on with a gesture. ‘I’m probably wrong, but do you think that the smuggled goods are being kept there?’
‘Good God!’ His mouth dropped open and he whispered, ‘You’re right, Rosa. ‘Barn is padlocked and Da has the key and he’s never locked it before. That’s why he wouldn’t let ’constable take a look!’ He pondered for a moment, then rose from the table. ‘I’m going over.’
‘Will you ask your da for the key?’
‘No,’ he said grimly. ‘I won’t. I have a sharp axe which will split ’chain on ’padloc
k. I’ll not be put off, which is what he would try to do. I’ll not be kept out.’
‘And what will you do then?’ she asked. ‘Report your father and Jim to the authorities? They’ll go to prison if you do!’
He stopped in his tracks and stood nonplussed for a moment, then said, ‘Folks who live near ’sea or river’s edge have often been involved in smuggling. An anker of brandy, a bit of baccy, and it doesn’t do a deal of harm. But we’re talking of more than that. You said you’d seen crates coming ashore, so that’s a big venture and if Da is storing it, then he’s as involved and as guilty as those who bring it in.’
‘So, you’d tell?’ She spoke quietly. Matthew was so straight and honest, always so open, no covering up mistakes, no subterfuge. Yet she couldn’t think that he would report his father and brother to the law.
He sat down again and put his head in his hands. ‘I don’t know! How can I, Rosa? Why? Why does he have to do it? He doesn’t need any money. Why is he taking such a risk? He could lose ’farm. We could all lose ’farm! ’Crown agents won’t let any of us stay if there’s ’least sniff of dishonesty.’
Rosa was aghast. The possibility of losing the farm hadn’t entered her head. But it was true. The farms had to be run satisfactorily or the leases could be terminated.
‘What shall we do?’ she whispered.
He got to his feet again. ‘I’m going anyway. I have to know. If ’goods are there I shall confront him, make him get rid of them somehow or other. I have to get to ’bottom of this, and if we’re wrong then I’ll apologize to him for my mistaken beliefs.’
‘I’ll come with you.’ She hurriedly reached for her thick outdoor shawl.
‘No!’ he said. ‘You won’t.’
‘I will,’ she parried. ‘It’s dark and John Byrne might be out there.’