New York Orphan (Tales of Flynn and Reilly Book 1)

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New York Orphan (Tales of Flynn and Reilly Book 1) Page 21

by Rosemary J. Kind


  From the matter-of-fact statement, William deduced the letter must yet be unopened, or, if it had had been attended to, must contain nothing of significance. “Yes, sir. I’ll mind things until then.”

  He felt his shoulders lose their tightness as his father went through the outer door, and after a moment’s pause William went over to the window and looked out in both directions. He was confused. His father had already disappeared from view, but as there was no meeting in the diary he had no idea where he might have been heading. He opened the door to get a better view of the street, but still saw no one. Once he sat back down, he set to wondering and then, checking through the window again, he went into his father’s office to look on the desk. He was carrying a pile of letters, which was his pretence if he were caught in the act of snooping.

  Molly’s letter was not immediately evident. Almost before he knew what he was doing, William began opening first one drawer and then the next in his father’s office. He did his best not to disturb the contents as he looked, but very carefully lifted the uppermost papers in order to look below. His heart was racing and his ears felt almost pained with the concentration of listening for the faintest sound of his father’s return. By the time he concluded there was nothing there, he was sweating profusely and his breathing was shallow.

  As he took his leave of the inner office, taking one last look around, he felt exhausted. He went across the reception area and slumped into his own chair. The search had taken him barely twenty minutes, but it felt as though it had been hours.

  As he began to breathe more evenly, he realised he’d left the pile of letters which had been his excuse and went back to retrieve them. He was less alert this time and when the outer door opened and his father entered reception, William was just leaving the inner office. He started with such force that he dropped the letters to the floor and could find absolutely no words to say.

  “William?”

  “I… sir… I”

  “I expect you were looking for this.”

  His father addressed him in such a steady tone that William was completely unnerved and before he knew what he was saying had said, “Yes, sir, I was.” Was it really so long since he’d lived on his wits that he’d forgotten how to do it? He looked down and sighed.

  “And would you mind telling me why?”

  William was thinking as fast as he could. How might he recover from the awkwardness of the situation? For the first time ever, there seemed no way out except the truth. He stared at his shoes as he spoke. “I thought I recognised the handwriting, sir.”

  “William…”

  William trembled at the seriousness of his father’s voice.

  “… I think it’s probably time that you and I sat down and had a very serious talk.”

  “Yes, sir.” William mumbled the words as he nodded. Then he stood aside as his father went towards the door to his office and, having passed William, held it open for him to follow.

  His father sat behind the imposing desk and gestured to William to be seated in the chair opposite. William felt small, sitting as he was in a low-backed chair without arms, while his father’s high-backed chair only accentuated the difference.

  “Sir?” William gulped and tried to hold his hands steady. He could see his glorious world crumbling and everything he’d dreamed of slipping away.

  “Why don’t you start at the beginning and tell me what’s going on?” His father’s tone was professional, but not unkind.

  William wished he could know the content of the letter before he began to speak. He wondered how much of the truth he could get away with telling and how far back he needed to go. For the time being, he decided that a limited version of the truth was needed and one which would paint him in as good a light as possible.

  He couldn’t bring himself to look at his father as he spoke. “You know, sir, that I came from New York. Our life was not good there. My father, the one I was born with, that is, went off in search of work and we could only presume he died. My mother, sir, she was a wonderful woman and did all she could…”

  He paused, trying to get his story straight as he told it. Would it be worse to say that he had a half-sister and that his mother had clearly slept with another man, or to have denied a full sister when she visited? “I had a half-sister.” He realised that by not saying whether the relationship was with his father or his mother, his mother might appear better than she was. “Her name was Molly.”

  His father nodded.

  “We weren’t close, sir.” If he could have done so without being seen he would have been crossing his fingers as he continued. “It was she who came looking for me recently. I thought it best that she went away again. You and Ma are my family now and … and I had no wish to cause anguish to Ma. My life is with you and I love Ma deeply.” He knew this would carry weight with his father, but checked himself from overdoing the detail.

  “And who is Daniel?”

  William sat up with a start. He was not expecting to say anything about Daniel and this turn of events shocked him. “Sir…” He tried to look his father in the eye as he spoke. “… My natural mother was a kind woman and she took him in. He was without parents when he arrived in New York.” Nothing there was exactly a lie, and William hoped he might get away without saying more.

  His father sat with his fingers steepled, his lower lip resting on the fingertips as he pondered. “Was Daniel an honest boy?”

  That was a question that William was not expecting. His mind raced. Maybe Daniel was searching for work and wanted to come to them, in which case he needed to head this off. However, whatever he said about Daniel might reflect on himself too, and he’d do anything to keep his father from knowing the truth of his life before.

  “Sir?” William stalled for time.

  “It’s a simple question. Do you believe Daniel to have been an honest child?”

  “As far as I know, sir, but I really didn’t know him that well.”

  Mr Dixon got up and walked around the office. He looked out of the window and stood with his back to William for some time. William chose to remain silent, although he could feel the sweat gathering as he waited and he would have been grateful to have a drink to sip.

  Suddenly, his father wheeled around to face him. “I knew about Bounty.”

  “Sir?” William gasped. It felt as though the wind had been knocked from him. How could his father have known it was he and not Briggs who injured Bounty? Why did he threaten to sack Briggs if he knew all along it was William? He gripped the base of the chair to stop the room spinning away from him.

  “I knew then that it was you who’d ridden Bounty. More than anything, I wanted you to be honest with me.” For the first time, his father was looking angry. “I took you as my son and I’d forgive you almost anything… except hurting your mother. That is something I could not forgive.”

  “I would do no such thing, sir.”

  His father raised an eyebrow and then turned away from him. “I would have let Briggs go because you are my son, because your ma could not have borne your dishonesty, or the misplaced trust in you. Thankfully it didn’t come to that. We’ve always done the best we can for you, William. We’ve brought you up as though you were our own. Can’t you see that?”

  William nodded, but his father’s back was still turned to him.

  “Can’t you see that?” he said more forcefully, his voice faltering as he spoke.

  “Yes, sir,” William replied, a sick feeling coming over him. He’d thought he’d been so clever, but Pa had known all along.

  “You may go. I shall be going out for the rest of the day and will see you at home this evening.”

  William got up slowly and as quietly as he could. Head bowed, he headed back to his desk.

  When his father left the office shortly afterwards, he did not speak to William. William felt bereft. He sighed heavily and stared at the far wall of the office. Had he thrown everything away because of his stupidity? He hoped not, but he had no ide
a what he was going to do. For a moment, he wished he’d had the courage to go away to fight, instead of sending Briggs in his place. At least the man was still alive, as far as William knew.

  It was a long afternoon. There were few callers to the office, and with his father absent no one came for appointments. It gave William more time to think. More time than he really wanted.

  Eventually the afternoon passed and he locked the office. He was supposed to be calling on Jeanie, but he had no heart for that now. The walk home seemed longer than ever and he went straight to his room to change for dinner, having called only a cursory greeting to Ma as he went through the hall. He stood in his room, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, and as he looked down at his bare arm he saw the scar. William sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and felt the colour draining from his face. He ran his index finger over the scar and felt the still raised line.

  He’d denied his friendship with Daniel for so long that he wondered what it meant to him. What it had ever meant to him. He was set on a path to wealth and success. That was what really mattered to him, wasn’t it? But as he sat there, unbidden tears began to roll down his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shed a tear. He hadn’t even done that when Mammy had died. As he sat there he wondered if he were crying for Mammy now, crying for a life lived at a distance. For all he’d done, his father, Mr Dixon, had overlooked his behaviour, but William found it hard to understand why he would do that. Did they really care about him enough to forgive him?

  He went to the basin and used the warm water left for him. He washed his face and tried to remove any trace of the tears. The only thing he could do was to speak with his father; maybe then he would begin to understand. He finished dressing and, having checked that he was as smart as he could be, he went back down to the hall. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on his father’s study door.

  “Enter.” His father sounded distracted.

  William took a deep breath and turned the door handle to go in.

  Chapter 26

  Molly had been to the courthouse every day in the two weeks since she’d sent the letter to Daniel. Every day she asked to see him and every day she was refused. She had tried standing outside, in case she heard him singing, and spent much time trying to work out exactly where in the building he was being held. Eventually a day came when her enquiries met a different response.

  “You can see him on Monday… in court.” The man smirked at Molly, making her uneasy.

  “Why so sudden? He doesn’t have a lawyer yet.” Molly’s thoughts were racing; there was little time for any plan to be put together.

  “He’ll have who the court gives him, same as the other wretches. After all, who would bother to pay for his representation?” The sneer made Molly angry.

  “I would, sir. In fact, I have already written to a lawyer asking for someone to help.” Of course, she knew that without a reply from Mr Dixon there was no hope of any progress, but she hoped that perhaps a little more time might bring a response. She wondered if there were any other way to find someone to defend Daniel.

  “The judge will be sitting on Monday and your Mr Flynn will be in front of him. Now good day, Miss.” He turned away from Molly and, as she could think of no more worth saying, she rushed out in search of Miss Ellie.

  It was already Thursday and there was not time enough to send another letter to Mr Dixon and receive a reply. She wished now that she had gone in person, but it was too late for thoughts like that. All she could do was pray. She felt in her pocket for the rosary, as she had done so many times, before remembering she had sent it to Daniel and wondering if the good Lord would watch over him. Then she thought of the years of trouble that Daniel had lived through and wondered how many other of her prayers had not been answered.

  The weekend passed slowly. Although she and Miss Ellie went to the little church, it held no comfort for Molly. As the pastor preached on the works of the Lord, Molly could only think of the poor lost boy who had arrived alone in New York and who God seemed to have abandoned. Despite her own losses, she was grateful for how her life had turned out. She did not feel hard done by, but even from the little she knew, the thought of what Daniel had been through all his life was impossible to bear.

  Monday dawned bright, but Molly had been awake longer than the sun and had lain in the darkness, silently crying. Today she would see Daniel for the first time in many years and the thought terrified her. What if he didn’t even know she was there? She had no way to tell him. She could only hope he would turn and see her. If he did turn, how would he recognise her, unless the note had been delivered to him?

  Molly dressed in the best clothes she had and was ready long before she and Miss Ellie needed to leave for the court.

  “Are you all right, child?” Miss Ellie asked, straightening Molly’s bonnet and wiping away the remnant of a tear.

  “Yes, ma’am,” were the only words Molly could find, and then they set off to walk slowly through the town, with Miss Ellie’s arm linked through hers, a solidarity that Molly appreciated and needed that morning.

  The public gallery of the courtroom had plenty of space and Molly chose seats towards the front, to be certain she could see properly when Daniel was brought in. She could not have faced eating that morning but her stomach was churning nonetheless. Being inside a courtroom was a new experience for her. Looking around, she shuddered. Then she sat with her eyes closed for a moment, taking regular deep breaths. Below them there were one or two men carrying papers to different tables. She thought they might be court officials, but she could not be certain. Only a few others came to join the public gallery, all of them men. Molly had the uncomfortable feeling of being looked up and down, and in catching Miss Ellie’s eye could only surmise that her guardian was feeling much the same.

  When the court was called to rise, Molly held her breath. The judge came in and sat at the bench. Molly’s heart raced as she looked first to one door and then another, expecting to see Daniel being led in. Once they were all seated a more plainly dressed gentleman called the details of the first case and Molly looked at Miss Ellie, her brow furrowed.

  “He isn’t the first case,” Miss Ellie whispered to her.

  The possibility of having to sit through other cases before Daniel was called, had not occurred to Molly and as comprehension dawned she felt suddenly tired.

  She watched in horror as a dishevelled prisoner, shackled at both arms and legs, was almost dragged to the dock. The truth hit her of just how bad Daniel might look and the thought was unbearable. She covered her mouth with her hands to stop herself from crying out, and Miss Ellie very gently put an arm around her waist as she sat upright and rigid on the bench seat.

  She heard few of the details of the case. It was impossible to focus on anything, save what Daniel might be going through. She fervently wished she had the comfort of the rosary to reach for, whether the good Lord had forsaken Daniel or not.

  As the jury were sworn in for the first case, it occurred to Molly that these men were more likely to be the peers of Mr Hawksworth than of Daniel, and she felt as though a weight had been added to her shoulders.

  The morning passed slowly and with each of the three cases that came before the judge, Molly felt her anxiety increase. She was longing to be outdoors in the fresh air, back in the fields of the farm in Pierceton, or in the cool of the dairy. The courtroom was hot and Molly felt uncomfortable in her starched smart collar and dress. She longed for her farm clothes. She’d seen enough of towns to know they weren’t for her and she wondered if her roots in rural Ireland were imprinted too deeply to ever change. As she sat, focussing on the meadows in her mind rather than the waste of human life before her, she barely heard the names called for the next case, but Miss Ellie suddenly straightened. Molly looked at Miss Ellie’s face and read all she needed to know. Daniel’s case had been called.

  Molly moved closer to the edge of her seat and watched the door through which the other prisoners had been br
ought. As she waited, she was aware that two men had approached the judge. He nodded before moving back, as the clerk called that a break for lunch would be taken and that the court would resume at two o’clock. Molly’s shoulders dropped and she exhaled sharply. Whilst thankful for the opportunity of a little fresh air, she had steeled herself for the sight of Daniel and now that would have to wait.

  Miss Ellie was clearly glad to be outside for a while and turned her face to the sunshine, smiling. “You could forget just how lucky you are, sitting in that room for very long. Whatever it must be like to be locked up, I can’t begin to imagine. Now let’s get some food inside you, girl, you’re going to need your strength.”

  They were comfortable enough in each other’s presence that Molly didn’t need to reply. As they ate, she thought of the men brought before the court that morning and wondered what their lives must be like. One had not been found guilty and that gave her a glimmer of hope that the court might be a fair one, but with no one to put Daniel’s side of things it was almost certain that Mr Hawksworth would carry sway. Much as she was anxious to get back inside, the time in the freedom of the air passed all too quickly. Even through the layers of her dress and skirts she could feel the discomfort of the bench seat, before she even sat on it again.

  They took the same positions as before. This time there were a few more onlookers and Molly fidgeted slightly as she felt their gazes fall on her and Miss Ellie. She sat as straight as she could and looked forwards into the body of the court.

  “All rise.”

  Once again they stood as the judge resumed his seat and the clerk called the case to be heard: ‘The State versus Daniel Flynn’. Molly’s head was swimming as she heard his name and saw movement below. She turned quickly to see the sheriff’s men escorting a man, bearded and bent, shackled as the others had been at wrists and ankles, who shuffled forwards into the court. As the thought dawned on Molly that this shadow of a man was Daniel she gasped and swayed, but thankfully Miss Ellie was quick to catch her before she fell. She swallowed hard and tried to pull herself together. She despised weak women who feigned swoons at the slightest thing and she had no wish to be taken for one of them. She breathed deeply as she felt the tears coming hot and fast down her cheeks. Never in all their days on the streets of New York could she remember Daniel looking as broken as he did in that court. She fervently wished there were some way he could know her presence, but thought it unlikely he would have the opportunity to look around him.

 

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