A Million Tears (The Tears Series)

by Paul Henke

  They talked for a while, waiting for Sion to return. Finally they heard him galloping back. It wasn’t long before he arrived breathless in the study.

  ‘The marshal says he’ll tell the coroner and he’ll come out tomorrow if we’re sure he died of either natural causes or by his own hand. That’s how the fat slob put it.’ There were no more tears with Sion now, just an undirected anger. ‘What did you mean, Dad, about saving you from going to prison? Thanks.’ Sion took the proffered glass of whisky and gulped at it. Unused to strong liquor he was left half choking and gasping. He found a bottle of his mother’s lemonade and poured it into the glass until the whisky colour had turned a bright yellow.

  ‘Do you remember about nine years ago, when we left Wales?’ Evan asked.

  ‘Some, but not all. I seem to remember we went to Uncle David’s place before leaving for the ship the next day. You and Uncle James turned up at the last minute. You were in a bit of a state I seem to remember. Hadn’t you hurt your leg or something?’

  ‘Yes, I had. I’d been shot.’

  ‘Good grief,’ Sion looked at his father with wide eyes.

  ‘Do you remember Grandad and Grandma dying in a fire?’ He waited for Sion to nod. ‘That fire was meant for me . . . to kill me. The murder – as it would have been

  – was ordered by a man named Sir Clifford Roberts . . .’ Talking steadily, Evan relived that night and told Sion exactly what had happened. When he finished he handed Sion Uncle James’ letter. Evan reached behind him and picked up the other letter, which was still unopened. He held it as though weighing it in his hands and then tore it open.

  Dear Evan,

  This isn’t going to be very long. I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any inconvenience but you remember what I told you I’d done that night back in Llanbeddas when I got away to you in Cardiff? I told you about me going up to the manor house that night and how I was going to set the place on fire. What I hadn’t told you was I killed Sir Clifford that night too. I have no regrets as I shall curse his memory from my grave, the black hearted son of a bitch. I won’t go into the details here about why I did it and all that happened. Today a detective was going to arrest me and send me back to Wales. He talked some rubbish about getting you too because you’d go back to help defend me. I didn’t really understand what he was talking about but it doesn’t matter now because I’m dead. It’s the best way. I couldn’t stand the thought of going back to stand some sort of trial. We know what justice means over there – under British tyranny it’s a matter of wealth is right. I want to thank you all for what you’ve done in the last ten years that have made my life so enjoyable. I’m sorry again if my actions that night cause you any trouble now. Evan, I swear here and now you had nothing to do with it.

  I shall take fond memories away with me, to keep me happy through all eternity. I love you all.

  My last will and testament is with my lawyer, John Driscole.

  Uncle James.

  Evan handed the letter to Meg who read it and passed it to Sion. Sion handed it back to Evan and grimaced. ‘Could they really have done it Dad? I mean send him back as an undesirable alien?’

  ‘It seems like it. Or else why did they spend so long looking for him? And me too come to that. There’s another point which I don’t know whether they’re aware of or not. We entered the country illegally. I don’t know whether the relevant authorities know about that, but if they ever found out,’ Evan shrugged. ‘Who knows what it could mean. And I know what you’re going to say. There’s tens of thousands of immigrants coming in every year illegally and nothing is done about it.’ He sighed. ‘We had better make the funeral arrangements tomorrow and send a telegram to David. Thank God he’s finished his exams. It would have been very hard on him to have this on his mind when he was taking his finals. He should be able to come home in a few days.’ Evan looked sadly at his glass and then drained it. ‘I don’t think I’ll bother with any food tonight,’ he said getting up and refilling his glass. He refreshed Meg’s as well.

  ‘You?’ he offered the bottle to his son who shook his head.

  ‘No thanks, Dad. I think I’ll go for a walk. I won’t be long.’ Sion wandered over to the stable and went in to stroke his horse. He gave him a rub down with a fist full of straw. ‘Well boy, he’s gone,’ Sion spoke to the animal, the horse’s ears pricking up at the sound of his voice. ‘He never did get around to taking a stone from your shoes, eh?’ Sion patted his rump. ‘I’m going to miss him. It was special between us, somehow.’ Sion looked over his shoulder, to the corner of the house he could just see through the open door. ‘Uncle James you shouldn’t have done it. Me and you could have gotten away,’ he spoke softly, the horse whinnied and turned his head to nuzzle Sion’s hand. ‘Mam and Dad would have understood and helped. We had the whole of the States to choose from, Uncle James.’ The tears started filling his eyes and then he was sobbing, leaning on the back of the horse. Sion was nearly seventeen, well built, his shoulders filling out. He was of medium height, not as tall as David, but stockier. He had a winning way with him, full of charm.

  Sion had not heard the buggy pulling up nor saw the two men climbing down. Nor did he hear them knock loudly on the door or see Evan answer. The little man in front of the marshal said something and then Evan was on him. He had him by the throat, shaking him like a terrier shakes a rat, the marshal trying ineffectively to pull him away. Sion heard the commotion and ran to the door. He recognised the marshal, a man he detested, ran back to his saddle and drew out his rifle. Meg appeared and screamed at Evan to put the man down. Sion had never seen his father in such a blind rage. The marshal pulled out his gun and raised it to hit Evan over the head with. Sion pointed his rifle in the sky and fired. The marshal stood still, his gun raised, hesitating. Evan stopped shaking the man and Meg fell silent.

  ‘Put the gun down, marshal, nice and easy like. That’s it. Now please just drop it to the ground. Dad, I don’t know what’s going on but are you aiming to kill him or just frighten him out of his wits? If it’s the latter I think he’s frightened already and if it’s the other you haven’t got far to go.’

  ‘Please, Evan,’ Meg begged, ‘put him down.’ She stood by Evan. ‘Who is he? The detective?’

  ‘Yes. He identified himself and then demanded to see Uncle James’ body.’ The man was stirring, beginning to groan. Evan let him go and the detective collapsed onto the earth.

  ‘Pick him up and get him off my property, marshal. If I ever see him again I’ll kill him. And that’s a promise.’

  ‘So will I, marshal,’ added Sion. ‘You can tell him if he’s still here tomorrow I’ll be coming looking for him.’

  ‘Sion, don’t be so stupid,’ Meg said, half in anger and half in fear. ‘This man is a gunslinger. What would you do to him?’ She had never seen her son like this before. In the mood he was in he was capable of anything.’

  ‘I’m not talking stupidly, Mam. This man killed Uncle James and when the men at the warehouse know about it I reckon we’ll have a little hanging.’

  ‘Rubbish, boy,’ exploded the marshal, angry because he had been made to drop his gun and look foolish. ‘There’ll be no necktie party in my town. All this man was doing was his job. Nothing more, nothing less.’

  ‘Shit, marshal and you know it. He was paid by some rich swine to find and hound an old man to death, which he did. To death,’ said Sion bitterly.

  The object of their discussion groaned, moved and then sat up, groggy and holding his throat. He tried to talk but could not manage more than a painful croak. Sion pushed the man hard in his back and he sprawled on the ground again.

  ‘All right, son,’ said Evan softly. ‘Marshal, it won’t be my son and my men coming for him, but me. I just changed my mind about what’ll happen if I see him. I’ll come into town looking for him. There are at least three trains before noon. He’d better be on one. Now take him out of here.’ With that Evan spun on his heel put his arm around Meg and beckoning to Sion, led them i
ndoors.

  ‘Thanks, son. It was a bit melodramatic I suppose but you were right. He caused Uncle James’ death and as far as I’m concerned he ought to pay for it.’

  ‘Listen to you two,’ said Meg bitterly. ‘Are you both out of your minds? It’s almost nineteen hundred and you talk like it was thirty years ago. I’ve never heard such nonsense. Do you think I want my husband and son killed, or arrested because of your blasted male stupidity? Evan, you should act your age. You know as well as I do that if it hadn’t been him it would have been somebody else. The marshal was right. He was just doing his job. Nothing you two do will bring Uncle James back. Instead it might take you from me as well. And where’s the sense in that? Men. You’re so busy being masculine you can’t see the more important things around you. Tell me, what will I do if either of you are killed? Eh? Tell me.’

  ‘We’re not going to get killed, Mam,’ said Sion.

  ‘Oh, you’re not, you say?’ Meg turned her scorn on her son. ‘Have you got a special contract with God to look after you? Do you think that because you believe you’re right you’ll live? I thought you had more intelligence than that, Sion. Damn you both. I’m going to get a drink.’ She stalked back to the study and, more than a little shamefaced Evan and Sion followed.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mam. You’re right,’ Sion said heavily.

  ‘Yes, I’m sorry too, Meg. And I’ll have a whisky. Here’s my glass.’

  Sion sighed. ‘I wish Uncle James was here to enjoy his dram as he used to say. This was his favourite time of day.’

  They sat talking in a desultory fashion for a while but there was nothing really to say, each aware of the others’ heartache. Sion soon sensed his parents wanted to be alone and excused himself.

  He lay on his bed for hours, unable to sleep, thinking, remembering. A noise from downstairs brought him out of his reverie. Carefully he opened his door and listened. The scuffling footsteps were peculiar somehow and he wished he had his gun. He opened the door further and looked over the banister.

  Evan was trying to climb the stairs with Meg over his shoulder. Sion hurried down to meet him. Evan was half way up when he teetered.

  Sion steadied his father and asked in alarm, ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nut . . . nothing,’ said Evan, the words slurred. ‘Just me and your Mam going to bed. Sh . . . she tried to drink . . . drink me one for one in whish . . . ky, but . . . but didn’t. Now I gottergetertobed,’ he said in one concentrated rush.

  Sion didn’t know whether to laugh with relief or feel disgusted with his mother for getting into such a state. In the end he felt only pity and helped his father get her upstairs.

  ‘Thanksh shon,’ Evan said and fell backwards across Meg’s thighs. Sion pulled him around until he was laying straight and went back to his own bed.

  Meg suffered in silence the next day very ashamed of herself, while Evan suffered loudly. The marshal returned with a doctor from the Coroner’s Office and issued Evan with a death certificate. The marshal also informed them that the detective had left first thing that morning.

  Evan made the funeral arrangements, Sion sent a telegram to David and John Buchanan and in accordance with Uncle James’ wishes, Meg arranged a wake.

  Uncle James was buried in the local cemetery, and over three hundred people turned up to pay their last respects. John Buchanan had cancelled a trip to Europe to be there, because like he said, Europe could wait. There were the German farmers for whom Uncle James had run the fund Evan had set up, businessmen he had known over the years and the Griffiths’ political friends from all walks of life.

  The wake later that afternoon was a huge success. Evan and Meg intended it to be an occasion to remember, just as Uncle James would have wanted. A steer, two sheep and a pig were spit roasted. The whisky and beer never ran out and an enormous barrel of punch had been prepared for the ladies and children. Uncle James was toasted so often that it caused one of the farmers to remark, ‘His spirit must be drunk by now.’

  By nine o’clock Sion was quite merry, sitting beside David on the grass. ‘How are you big brother?’ he asked affectionately.

  ‘Not bad, not bad at all. Christ, I don’t know why I’m smiling. Too much drink, I suppose. I’m going to miss having Uncle James around.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Sion, his voice barely more than a whisper. ‘I’m going to miss him something terrible. You know, he’d become so much a part of the family it was as though he’d be around forever and now he’s gone.’

  David signed. ‘Aye, that’s so. But life must go on. Or it will go on I should say. There’s no must about it. Cigarette?’

  ‘No thanks. I might drink a bit now and then but I don’t smoke. I’m surprised you do.’

  ‘Everybody smokes at the University. I just followed the rest so as not to be the odd one out. You’ll see what I mean when you go next month. It’s a pity I won’t be there. I’d have liked to have shown you the ropes for the first year. You know, helped you get settled in, like. Oh well, it can’t be helped I suppose. Pity you lost a year after you got shot.’

  ‘Are you pleased about Harvard?’

  ‘I am and I’m not really. I’d have liked a longer break. I’ve been studying since I can remember and I get a bit fed up sometimes. Still, two more years isn’t so much, I suppose.’ David stared moodily into his beer.

  ‘I know what you mean. I feel like that now. If it wasn’t for Mam and Dad I don’t think I’d go. I’d just push off for a bit, see some of the country, maybe the world.’

  ‘You know what they’ll say if you suggest something like that. There’s plenty of time when you’ve finished your education.’ David tried to copy Evan’s voice and nearly succeeded. ‘And I guess they’re right. I’ll be twenty one with a qualification that’ll allow me to practise law. A year or two in practice and then I’ll come and sort out Dad’s business for him. Or at least I’ll turn us from being a well off family into a rich one.’ He smiled at his brother. ‘What do you plan to do?’

  Sion laughed. ‘Not that, that’s for sure. I was reading about this bloke S P Langley and his flying machine. It rather interests me and I thought I’d look a bit further into it. With the new type of gasoline engine I think there might be something in it.’

  ‘Hmmm, I dunno. There could be, I suppose, but it’s pretty farfetched. I mean, getting something heavier than air to fly.’

  ‘But Langley did it,’ Sion protested.

  ‘So it said in the newspapers but I don’t think you can believe all that’s written in them. Mind you, the rate they’re inventing new things nowadays I suppose anything’s possible. Oh well, we’ll see what we shall see.’ He paused to drink some beer. ‘What’re the girls like around town? Anything good?’

  ‘Not really. You know Peggy-Sue McAlister? She’s being used by just about everybody in the class. Man, I’m not kidding but if you’re feeling horny about lunchtime she’ll go with you down to the bottom of the field and, well, you know.’

  ‘You’re kidding? You mean that pretty blonde girl with the big boobs?’

  ‘That’s the one. I guess there’s something wrong with her or something because she just can’t get enough. She’s always wanting to feel it, you know. There’s one or two others who, if you go out for a couple of walks with them and be nice, they’ll let you touch them up but they won’t do much for you. At least, I haven’t found one yet that will. But I keep looking,’ Sion said with a grin. ‘What about you?’

  ‘Oh, we don’t do so badly. Of course, being an all male college, there ain’t much to spare around the town but . . . I’m not complaining about my time there,’ David said with a smirk.

  ‘Trust you. Who is she?’

  ‘Oh, nobody who matters. Just a local girl. Good for a relaxing evening. Not too bright and likes quiet moonlight walks, if you see what I mean.’

  ‘I see all right. What’s her name and how do I contact her when I get there?’

  ‘Cathy. But her folks took her out West with them a
week ago and they’re not coming back.’

  ‘That’s a shame. There’s Gunhild over there,’ Sion nodded towards the blonde figure near the food table but watched for David’s reaction. Sion was not disappointed. David reacted like an electric wire had touched him. He jerked around, saw her and got to his feet.

  ‘I’m going to talk to her. Has she got a boyfriend, do you know?’

  ‘Oh, she’s had plenty on a string but at the moment I think she’s between men.’

  ‘Thanks. See you later,’ David wandered nonchalantly away. It was not obvious to look at him but his heart was pounding and his ears buzzing.

  Sion sighed and drained his glass. I think he’s in love with her he thought. He got up and went to refill his glass of beer. He drank half of it and topped it up again. There was still the best part of three hundred guests scattered around the lawns and throughout the house. Tables groaned beneath the weight of food and drink. The men and women were in groups, some large and some small, milling, talking, laughing and toasting Uncle James.

  ‘Are we wrong, Uncle James?’ asked Sion, in a soft whisper. ‘Is this what you really wanted? I guess, knowing you, it is. Wherever you are, I hope you’re enjoying it as well. Is Sian with you? Have you told her how I’m always thinking of her? It was always different for me, us being twins and all. I was closer to her than the others can imagine. Oh well, Uncle James, here’s to you.’ He raised his glass in silent tribute and drank a little.

  He wandered about for ten minutes and finally stopped next to a group of farmers.

  ‘Hullo, Mr Reisenbach,’ he greeted the man. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Sad at the departure of my dear friend James,’ Hans replied. ‘But apart from that all is vell. And you Sion? Are you not off to the university soon?’

  ‘In a few weeks time. I’m looking forward to it.’

  ‘Ach, I am sure you are. You are lucky boys to have such a fine education. I sometimes vish my Gunhild had done the same. Of course the boys vant to stay vith the farm as it should be and anyway they vere never so bright at school.’