The Three Kings

by Doris Davidson

  Her chest felt like it was being compressed in a vice and there was a stitch in her side, so she leaned against a tree trunk until she was fit to carry on. Sammy’s breathing was rattling like a traction engine, but it didn’t seem to bother him as he waited patiently beside her. When her own breathing was easier, she said, ‘We’d be quicker going along the river bank. Nobody would see us there.’

  ‘The salmon poachers?’ he offered.

  ‘Oh.’ She had forgotten the men whose unlawful activities were carried out on moonless nights such as this. ‘I suppose we’ll have to keep to the woods, it’ll be safer.’

  They set off silently again, not running but walking as quickly as Katie could manage. At one point, Sammy picked up a long, straight stick and swished at bushes until she felt like screaming, but she knew that he didn’t understand the danger they were in. Maybe he was pretending to be a knight in shining armour saving a damsel in distress, and it was best to leave it like that, for his poor brain couldn’t cope with more than one thing at a time; her own brain was having difficulty with all the things she had to worry about.

  They were far beyond what Sammy thought of as his woods now, which were actually part of a dense, very extensive forest, and when they suddenly emerged into an open field, a narrow strip of light was showing on the horizon. ‘The sun’s coming up,’ Katie said, uncertain of how to proceed. ‘We’d better go back in the trees till I think what to do.’

  They sat down on a fallen trunk, and Sammy said, with a little giggle, ‘It’s fun, this.’

  She was glad that he could look on their predicament as fun, for her head was spinning with images of the two dead bodies they had left behind. And where could they go with no money, not even a few coppers to buy any food? She had kept the wages Mrs Gunn gave her under a sheet of paper in the bottom of her chest of drawers, but she had forgotten about it in her haste to get away.

  ‘What’s wrong, Katie?’

  Sammy’s gravelly voice made her jump, but she tried to keep her voice light. ‘Nothing’s wrong. I was thinking about something, that’s all.’

  Should she go back for her wages? Should she tell Sammy he would have to go on alone? But he couldn’t fend for himself. How long would it be before the bodies were found? Nobody ever went to the house … except the tradesmen in their vans. The baker came Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and the butcher on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, but she was in such a state she couldn’t remember … ‘What day is it, Sammy?’

  His brows came down in thought, his eyes darted from side to side searching for inspiration, then he said, ‘I hoe the vegies every Thursday and I did them yesterday.’

  ‘This must be Friday, then.’

  Would the baker just go away when he got no reply to his knock on the back door? It wasn’t likely, Katie thought, for he always got a big order, and he would maybe go in to see where she was. He would be puzzled that she wasn’t in the kitchen, but being just a van driver, he surely wouldn’t go upstairs? And neither would the butcher tomorrow. She and Sammy should be safe until one of the men got alarmed at getting no answer at the house for days and reported it to the police. It was awful to hope that the corpses would lie undiscovered for maybe a week, but she couldn’t help it.

  It was herself and Sammy that she had to worry about now, Katie thought. Even if no one came after them, there was still the problem of where they should go, and what they would do when they got there. They would have to find jobs, but who would employ a boy like Sammy? All he knew was flowers and vegetables and grass. Unless … would a farmer hire him? Farmers always needed strong laddies.

  ‘Would you like to work on a farm, Sammy?’

  ‘Are we going to a farm?’

  ‘Not just yet, in a day or two, maybe.’ They would have to get far enough away from Fenty so that nobody would connect them with the deaths when Mr and Mrs Gunn were found.

  All day they walked, with only little stops to rest or to eat the wild rasps they found – bramble bushes were more plentiful but the berries were still green – and to slake their thirst with the cool clear water of the burns and springs they came across. Katie was thankful that Sammy had accepted the need to keep going, but she dreaded the time when he would demand some proper food.

  They kept to those fields where trees or hedges offered them some cover until Katie felt that she could walk no longer and decided to find somewhere to shelter for the night. Dusk was gathering fast when she saw a barn, well away from the farm to which it belonged and in such a dilapidated condition it had obviously fallen out of use. ‘We could sleep there,’ she said, pointing, and had to hurry to keep up with Sammy as he sprinted forward with a beaming smile. The door was hanging off its hinges, but they managed to wriggle through the gap. ‘There’s no beds,’ he wailed.

  ‘We can make beds for ourselves,’ Katie said, cheerfully.

  She scraped together a layer of old straw, expecting him to do the same for himself, and she was too tired to protest when he flopped beside her when she lay down. In fact, she felt comfort rather than anger when he fitted his body to the curve of her back. It did cross her mind fleetingly that they were like the Babes in the Wood, then, exhausted, she fell into a deep sleep.

  The novelty of living rough wore off the next day for Sammy. They had not been walking long when he stopped. ‘I don’t want to go any farther.’

  ‘We can’t stop here,’ Katie told him, hoping he wasn’t going to be difficult. It was bad enough having to keep a sharp lookout for other people without having to force Sammy to do what he was told. ‘Come on, before somebody sees us.’

  He shut his eyes and shook his head obstinately. ‘I want to go home.’

  Katie’s patience deserted her. ‘All right, I’ll carry on by myself, and you can go home so the bobbies can catch you and string you up.’

  His eyes flew open. ‘String me up? Like I string up dead crows to keep the other crows off the garden?’

  ‘Yes, just like that, and you’d be as dead as they were.’

  ‘But why would the bobbies string me up?’

  ‘Have you forgotten you killed your father?’

  He didn’t answer, but she knew from the dark look on his screwed-up face that he was remembering. Her spurt of anger evaporated. He didn’t know his mother was dead, too, which made him an orphan, like her. ‘Oh, Sammy,’ she said, gently, ‘we’ve got to carry on, we can’t go back.’

  ‘How far yet?’

  ‘I don’t know. Just till I think we’re safe.’

  As they trudged forward again, Katie turned to smile at him. ‘We’ll be all right, don’t worry.’ But her own mind was far from easy. She had lashed out at Mr Gunn with her nail scissors, and it was just by luck that she hadn’t stabbed him to death. If the police ever did find them, they would ask about the cut, and not only would Sammy be charged with murder, she would be charged with attempted murder, and they could end up on the gallows together. Nobody would believe that Mr Gunn had killed his wife, they would think Sammy had done that, as well. Not that it would make much difference to him – they couldn’t hang him twice. And maybe it was a good thing Mrs Gunn was dead. She couldn’t describe them to anybody. No one would know what they looked like … but the doctor knew, and the baker and the butcher knew. They could give descriptions.

  She wouldn’t be able to relax until they were out of the area of any search, and she would be better not to remind Sammy again about what had happened. He would soon forget and wouldn’t be able to tell anybody about it.

  They stemmed their hunger that day with a large turnip from a field, Sammy slicing into it with the large gully knife he carried in the pocket of his trousers. The raw vegetable was more substantial than the rasps they had eaten the day before, and lasted them all day. The sun was low in the sky when Katie spotted a big shed that would be an ideal place to sleep. It was in better repair than their last refuge, but it did have several holes in the roof. ‘I just hope it doesn’t rain,’ she sighed, then brightened whe
n she saw the huge heap of hay in the corner. ‘It’s likely animal fodder,’ she told Sammy, as she picked up an armful, ‘but we can use it to sleep on and put it all back in the morning.’

  Their fragrant bed was so comfortable and warm that Katie was unwilling to move when she awoke. Sammy was still asleep with his arm round her waist, snoring with his mouth open. If they only had something decent to eat, she thought, it would be quite nice to stay here for a day or two.

  The crowing of a cockerel made her feel more hungry than ever. Where there was a cockerel there must be hens … and nobody would miss a couple of eggs. Her thoughts now only on her rumbling stomach, it didn’t cross Katie’s mind that she had no means of cooking, and removing the imprisoning arm, she got up cautiously and crept outside. There was no sign of a hen run, so she supposed that the birds were just left to scratch around where they pleased. She dropped to the ground to avoid being seen and was crawling through the long grass when Sammy’s panic-stricken voice halted her.

  ‘Katie!’ he screamed. ‘Where are you, Katie?’

  All hell broke loose then. Two collies came bounding over, snarling and snapping at her when she stood up; dozens of hens appeared from all around her, flapping their wings and cackling loudly in fear. At that, the cockerel added his contribution to the cacophony, which brought a woman out of the low house at the far side of the yard some way ahead. She ran over to calm the dogs, then looked from Katie to Sammy. ‘What’s going on?’ she demanded.

  Red with embarrassment, Katie mumbled, ‘I’m sorry. I was looking for eggs …’

  ‘Oh! You were trying to steal my eggs, were you?’

  ‘I was just going to take two,’ Katie defended herself, trying feverishly to think of further explanations.

  ‘It’s still stealing.’

  Katie had a sudden brainwave. ‘Sammy’s my brother and our mother’s in hospital in Aberdeen, so we’re going to see her, but we’ve no money for food or a bed. That’s why we slept in your barn last night, and we’re awful hungry.’

  A trusting soul, Jeannie Low had no doubts about what she had been told. Why else would a young laddie and lassie be on the road penniless? ‘Oh, you poor things,’ she exclaimed. ‘Come inside and I’ll give you some breakfast.’

  On the way to the house, she said, ‘Have you come far?’

  Katie told the truth this time. ‘We’ve been walking for two days already.’

  In her small kitchen, Jeannie filled an enamel basin with hot water from the kettle so that they could wash while she scrambled some eggs, and as they gobbled up this feast, she told them she was a crofter’s wife and that her man was out in the fields. Katie was relieved that Sammy kept silent – he was so unpredictable that she had been afraid he might come out with their whole terrible story.

  Jeannie sent them on their way with some home-made scones, a big lump of crowdie cheese and oatcakes to eat with it, and called after them, ‘I hope your mother’s a lot better when you get to the hospital.’

  Katie felt quite guilty at deceiving this kind woman, and, luckily, they were well out of earshot before Sammy said, in a puzzled yet accusing voice, ‘My mother’s not in hospital.’

  ‘I had to tell her something,’ Katie explained. ‘She was wondering why we were wandering about with no money.’

  ‘You said I was your brother. Am I your brother now?’

  She was quite proud of having thought that up on the spur of the moment. ‘Yes, you’re my brother now.’ It would save him putting his foot in it if other people asked them any questions.

  She rationed the food they had been given, half in the middle of the day, and the rest when she judged it must be suppertime. Sammy dabbed up the last crumbs as they sat by the edge of a burn, hidden from anyone’s view by the waving stems of yarrow and couch grass. ‘I like this place,’ he said, contentedly. ‘Can we stay here, Katie?’

  ‘No, we’ll have to go a bit farther.’ She was beginning to have doubts as to her sense of direction, and wished that she had asked the crofter’s wife where they were. They had followed paths through woods, cut across fields and jumped burns, doubled back on their tracks when they came too near habitation of any kind, and now they could be anywhere … maybe just a stone’s throw from where they had started.

  ‘I’m stopping here.’ The boy folded his arms and looked at Katie defiantly when she stood up.

  With another unexpected flash of inspiration, she said, ‘We’re on a walking holiday, and folk on walking holidays keep on walking.’

  ‘A holiday?’ The word was familiar to Sammy, but he had to dredge his sieve-like brain to find out why. When it came to him, his look of perplexed concentration cleared. ‘I used to get holidays from school, but I didn’t have to go walking.’

  ‘Ah, yes, but they were only holidays for children. When grown-up people get holidays, they stop working and go to another place till it’s time for them to go back to work.’ Searching for another carrot to dangle, she added, ‘We’ll look for a road now, we’d get on a lot faster.’

  He sprang to his feet at once, but when he began to chant, ‘A holiday on a road, a holiday on a road,’ she put her finger to her lips. ‘You can’t make a noise, though. We still don’t want anybody to see us, it’s a secret holiday.’

  This was so intriguing that he bounded along at her side with a mesmerized expression until he saw a road to their right. ‘That one?’ he asked, hopefully.

  Smiling and nodding, she wondered if she was being rash, but they would get on much quicker if they kept to the road, wherever it led them. Only once over the next few hours did the distant throb of an engine make them lie down in a dry ditch to escape detection, and the bus passed and was out of sight in seconds. Back on the highway, with his schooldays freshly recalled, Sammy said, ‘Hide and seek, Katie?’

  ‘Yes,’ she laughed, ‘and nobody caught us.’

  They were only a little farther on when Sammy gave a shout of delight. ‘Strawberries, Katie.’

  She was on the point of saying they would be too easily seen in such an open field, but hunger overrode caution, and he was already heading towards it. The berries, probably being grown for some market, were large and luscious, and when Sammy picked one and popped it whole into his mouth, Katie hesitated. ‘We can’t eat them here. We’ll gather some into my skirt, and we’ll look for a sheltered place.’

  After they pulled as many as she deemed would be good for them, they walked on, and it wasn’t long until she saw a big barn separated from its owner’s house by a small cluster of trees. ‘That should be safe enough,’ she told Sammy. He was off like a shot, sliding the huge door open and smiling as he beckoned her in. They sat down on the earth floor, their hunger making them wolf into the strawberries, and Sammy giggled at the mass of stains on her skirt when they were finished.

  ‘What a mess I’m in,’ she sighed, ‘and I feel filthy. I wish I could have a wash.’

  On their way to the barn, Sammy’s keen eyes had taken in the details of the surrounding area. ‘There’s a burn,’ he beamed. ‘I’ll show you.’

  He darted out, and because it was still daylight, Katie made sure that no one was about before she ran after him. He was hunkered down lapping water from his cupped hands when she reached him, and she let herself relax – the bank was so high it would screen them from unwanted eyes. She washed her face and hands and made Sammy do the same, though he mumbled that he wasn’t dirty, then she took off her skirt, sluiced the juice from it and scrubbed until most of the stains were gone. Back in the barn, she hung it over a rickety wooden box to dry. ‘I think we should stay here tonight. I can’t walk about half undressed.’

  Sitting down, Sammy said, a little wearily, ‘I hope we don’t have to go much farther, my feet’s awful sore.’

  Katie could sympathize with him over this, for her own feet had sprouted blisters the size of pennies. ‘Take off your boots, then,’ she advised him, ‘and stuff them with some of that straw in the corner. That’ll dry up the sweat, and
you can put in some fresh in the morning.’

  She filled her own shoes and then spread a heap of straw on the floor. Sammy lay down first and, feeling quite cold with only her thin petticoats round her legs, Katie curled in behind him. He turned to face her and put his arm round her like a child cuddling his mother, and she was so tired and worried that she hadn’t the heart to reprimand him.

  ‘What the hell are you two doing in there?’

  A stout man was glowering at Katie when she woke with a start. ‘We came in for a rest,’ she mumbled, pushing Sammy’s arms away. Then she caught a glimpse of her skirt where she had spread it out to dry, and, her face crimson, she tugged at her petticoats to pull them over her bared legs. ‘I’d to wash my skirt …’

  ‘You’re trespassing,’ the man growled. ‘Do you know that, you little tart? You and your fancy man.’

  Rallying her wits, Katie tried not to show how shaken she was. ‘He’s my brother.’ She turned to the boy, cowering away from the angry intruder. ‘Aren’t you, Sammy?’

  Sammy’s solemn nod enraged the man even more. ‘Brother? Good God! What’s things coming to?’

  ‘We just wanted a place to sleep. We’re looking for work.’ She knew they couldn’t go on as they had been doing, and even if the hue and cry for them had started, the bobbies surely would never think of looking for them here.

  ‘What kind of work can you do?’

  ‘We’re willing to try anything. You see … our father died not long ago, then our mother died, and we’ve been walking for days.’

  Katie’s anxious expression did the trick, and the man let his breath out slowly. ‘Aye, well … there might be something here for you.’

  ‘Will you take us to the farmer then, so I can ask him?’

  He gave a loud chuckle. ‘I’m the farmer, lassie. Can you milk a cow?’

  ‘I can easy learn.’

  ‘I bet you can, you look real quick on the uptake, and it’s like this. My dairymaid walked out when she took the huff at something I said, and my wife’s been complaining about having to do the milking herself this past four days, so she’ll be pleased somebody’s taking on the job. She’ll show you what to do.’