Children of Fire

by Paul CW Beatty

  Before the voices could get closer, Josiah broke cover and ran down the twenty yards of towpath towards the man. The lockkeeper looked up as Josiah skittered to a halt in front of him.

  ‘Can you make this lock impassable?’

  ‘What!’

  ‘Can you make it so that this lock cannot be passed by the boat that is coming down behind me?’

  ‘Why in God’s name should I do that?’

  ‘Because I am a policeman and I need to trap that boat,’ He stabbed his finger towards it, to make his point, ‘between here and that other lock.’

  ‘So it may be, but that don’t give you the right to order me about!’

  ‘On the contrary, Sir, it does. I can order you to help me in the Queen’s name and if you refuse I can, and will, bring you before the magistrates in Stockport for your obstruction of me in the line of my duty!’

  The lock-keeper hesitated and looked a bit uncertain. ‘What’s so urgent about that barge?’

  ‘It is carrying a hundred barrels of gunpowder and other explosives. Its butty is carrying an equivalent in muskets and small arms. I also have evidence that one person on the barge is guilty of seven murders. Will you help me?’

  There was water in the spillway; another lock was being emptied. Phelan was probably in the lock immediately above where Josiah was.

  Finally, the lockkeeper made up his mind.

  ‘Suppose I’ll have to help you then,’ he said with ill-grace but it was too late. There was a shout from behind Josiah.

  ‘God damn you, Ainscough!’

  Phelan, having assisted with getting the barge through the lock must have come to its edge and seen Josiah and the lock-keeper. As Josiah watched, Phelan took out a pistol from his coat. Josiah saw a puff of smoke, heard the report and the crack of the ball hitting the lock gate.

  ‘Christ!’ swore the lock-keeper. He started to run and shouted over his shoulder. ‘I’ll try to jam the bottom lock.’

  The barge was now more than halfway across the water between the locks and Phelan was running towards Josiah down the towpath. But the shot had frightened the pony and the barge was out of control. Fergus was at the tiller but without the pony to pull back on the rope he could not control the barge. Its prow hit the top gate of the lock beside which Josiah stood, a shuddering blow. Fergus jumped off and went to help the boy calm the pony.

  Josiah retreated to the other end of the lock and took his truncheon out of its pocket. He was frightened but resolved. As well prepared as he could for the coming encounter. Phelan was still running but when he got to upper gate of the lock, he stopped and faced Josiah, taking a second pistol from his coat.

  ‘Give up, Phelan,’ Josiah shouted. ‘Even if you get away you will not be able to take the blackpowder and the weapons with you. Whatever you came from Ireland to do is at an end.’

  ‘Josiah, I admire your tenacity in doing your duty at the risk of your life. I missed you just now but I will not miss from this range.’

  ‘Then why don’t you kill me and be done with it?’

  ‘Because, at this point, it is not my duty. You see I am doing my duty as well.’

  ‘I find that difficult to believe. What duty could demand you set a trap to kill Abram Hailsworth, three innocent women and a boy, just so you could win yourself a few hours to get away?

  ‘You found them? Can I ask if they were alright?’

  ‘No thanks to you, they are all well!’

  ‘Good. Though I did my duty in that case it sat heavily on my heart. I am a soldier, not a murderer of children.’

  ‘Soldiers do not murder their own men.’

  ‘McBrinnie? I did not murder him.’

  ‘How can I possibly believe that?’

  ‘I cannot tell how or what you believe, Constable, but I did not kill him, though I would have done if it had been ordered.’

  ‘Ordered? You are the commander here. Surely, the only orders you have to follow are your own?’

  Phelan laughed. ‘I am just a soldier and like all soldiers, and policemen, my duty is to obey orders. I have only done what my captain has ordered me to do.’

  ‘Phelan, I do not understand what you hope to gain by this sort of fiction.’

  ‘He is not spinning a fiction, Josiah, but stating the plain truth.’ The voice nearly stopped his heart. The figure that had emerged from the barge’s cabin, was pointing a small double-barrelled pistol at him. He watched as, with its free hand, it took off its worker’s cap and shook out a beautiful cascade of red hair.

  ‘Do not move, Josiah. As much as I love you I will not hesitate to shoot and as my “lieutenant” will tell you I am as good, if not a better, shot than him. It is my duty to do all I can to get what this barge contains to Ireland. Like you I will do my duty or die in the attempt.’

  ‘Aideen,’ was all Josiah could whisper.

  39

  The Cost of Duty

  Fergus had got the pony back under control. Aideen shouted at him. ‘Back here now. Get the lock filled while I keep Constable Ainscough quiet. Help him, Phelan.’

  ‘I sent the lock-keeper down to obstruct the next lock. You are trapped.’

  ‘Look behind you, Josiah. While you and Phelan were talking, the lock-keeper’s cowardly legs carried him to safety. Not everyone takes duty as seriously as you and I.’

  Phelan and Fergus were operating the sluice paddles to fill the lock. When Fergus had raised one of the paddles Aideen shouted another order.

  ‘Back to the other lock and get the butty through it. The Constable is on his own; the odds are in our favour.’

  Fergus trotted back up the towpath. Phelan finished opening the second sluice paddle. The force of the water was at its maximum and Josiah could hear it as it streamed into the empty lock. The barge, with its nose still against the upper gate, was being pulled about by the strong current created by having the sluices fully open.

  ‘Quicker, Phelan, quicker. Open the central paddle on the upper gate. Come on, man!’

  Phelan obeyed. The rumbling of the water increased and spray came up from the depths of the lock. The barge started to buck. Josiah remained still, conscious that, even while standing on the moving deck, Aideen seemed to have little difficulty, in keeping a steady aim at him. She looked as she had when jumping the stream and wall on the way up Kinder: magnificent, fearless and dangerous. Then he saw a figure two locks upstream. It was waving and shouting but could not be heard above the noise of the water pouring into the lock. He would have known Michael O’Carroll anywhere.

  Now the tables were turned. While Josiah had been unable to see the desertion of the lock-keeper, Aideen and Phelan could not see what was happening upstream. Two large men were fighting with Fergus and his wife for control of the butty. The boy deserted the pony and went to join in.

  Another man, with Michael and Mr Bridges were running towards the lower lock. Phelan saw them as he looked up from finishing opening the central paddle.

  ‘Aideen, behind you!’ She swung round and fired both barrels at the man, who was fifteen yards away. He took the shots in the legs and went down but Michael and Bridges ran on.

  Josiah took the opportunity of the distraction to launch himself at Phelan. He grabbed the Irishman and they toppled over the balance bar of the top gate. Josiah’s truncheon and Phelan’s pistol were knocked out of their hands.

  They rolled to and fro on the ground as Phelan tried to break Josiah’s grip. Josiah’s hat came off and rolled away. Once Josiah nearly managed to stand but Phelan kicked his legs away and they were back on the floor grappling for any advantage. Dangerously they rolled towards the filling lock but somehow missed going over the edge. Then Josiah found himself on top and free. He staggered backwards, grabbed his truncheon from the ground and before the Irishman had time to get up properly, knocked Phelan cold with a crack to the head.
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br />   Mr Bridges and Michael arrived, intending to board the boat to subdue Aideen but it was not to be. Josiah saw Michael hold his arm out to stop the Mr Bridges moving towards the boat. Aideen had made desperate use of the time Josiah had been fighting Phelan. She was now standing near the tiller trying to strike a match. On the top of the cabin she had placed one of McBrinnie’s grenades with a short fuse.

  Josiah eased himself forward while her attention was on the grenade. The first match she had tried had gone out in the breeze. She was fumbling with another.

  ‘Do not do this, Aideen. It is over.’

  ‘Never,’ she hissed. She was still beautiful but no longer in charge of her emotions. The second match flared up. Cupping her hand to protect it from the wind she brought it towards the fuse.

  Josiah jumped onto the side of the boat as fuse took light and she held up the grenade ready to throw. He collided with her and together they went overboard.

  Submerged, his ears were full of the rushing sound of the water cascading into the lock. He surfaced. Aideen had fallen nearer to the front of the boat and was already in trouble in the current generated by the open paddles. Josiah grabbed one of her flailing arms with his right hand and caught hold of the sleeve of her jacket but the cloth was waterlogged and slippery. He clung on as the current drew them both towards the gate, fighting the current by sculling upstream with his free arm and kicking his legs.

  Then his right hand began to slip until he could not hold onto the cloth. He managed to re-establish his grip on her wrist but his hand was aching and he did not have the strength. In seconds he was holding only her palm and a few second latter all that was left were hooked fingers. He gave up struggling against the current and reached to get his other hand on her wrist. They went under and then resurfaced together.

  He was desperately close to getting a new steady grip on her wrist when a pistol went off somewhere above him, a terrible pain shot down his back and he was fighting to hang on to Aideen as his strength ebbed away.

  ‘Mother!’ she screamed before the current broke Josiah’s hold and dragged her under; then his consciousness dissolved.

  40

  Bread and Jam for Breakfast

  Peaceful lights flickered in the darkness: blue and green…

  … A little while later there were more, this time tinged with sharp pain: blinding red and yellow.

  … Again terrifying lights and sounds: a woman screaming; the roaring of animals?

  … Body floats. Water trickles down my throat. Words ‘Josiah drink.’

  … Whiteness, eyes hurting, a moving shape, a voice. ‘Josiah. Josiah. Can you hear me?’ I open my eyes, blink and tried to put my hand up to shade them from the sunlight. Pain. Pain in my back. Blink again. Gentle fingers pushing back hair on my forehead. Only one word I remember. ‘Mother?’

  … Voice, ‘Josiah, do you know me?’ I know the voice. I am awake.

  ‘Rachael? Where am I, Rachael?’

  ‘Long Clough. I am caring for you.’

  Desperation, panic. ‘Must get up.’ Pain. I grip her arm and try to pull myself up. ‘Must hurry. She is going. Must save her.’ Roaring in my ears starts again.

  ‘Lie back and rest,’ soft hands, cool pillows. ‘That time has passed.’

  ‘Where is she?’ Cheeks are wet. Why am I crying?

  Josiah woke up clearheaded. Through leaded windows he could see trees swaying in the breeze. There were sounds of activity from the courtyard and birdsong. He could not move his left arm. It was not painful, it just did not move to his bidding, not even the fingers. His right arm was stiff but manoeuvrable. He felt his left shoulder with his right hand. It was heavily bandaged and it was very tender to all but the slightest touch. The door of the bedroom swung open and Rachael came in.

  ‘At last, you are awake,’ she said and smiled. ‘That’s very good to see.’ She had a tray with her on which was bread, butter and jam, and what looked suspiciously like a china teapot.

  ‘Do you think you could manage some breakfast today? The bread and butter are ours, the jam, or rather conserve, from Barbara Hailsworth. But the pièce de résistance, as I believe the French say, is from the landlady at the Navigation. She has sent you one of her teapots, a matching cup and saucer, and as well as a quarter of her best tea. Also she sends a message that you will be welcome to a ham sandwich on the house but only when you can walk over to Marple to eat it.’

  Rachael put the tray on a table and pulled up a chair near his bed. ‘Tell me what you will start with and I will pass you what you need and help you to eat it.’

  ‘First a question? How long have I been here?’

  ‘About three weeks.’ The happy façade slipped just a little and she looked seriously at him. ‘What can you remember?’

  He could see Phelan pointing a pistol at him. Then he was falling into water with Aideen. ‘I can remember the water rushing and,’ He could feel the wet cloth slipping from his fingers, the terrible pain and a scream before the blackness. Then he remembered it all.

  He wept. ‘She is dead. I failed her.’

  ‘It is alright now, Josiah. At least you are safe. Have your breakfast then I will get Michael and he can tell you everything.’

  Josiah could not believe it. ‘Has Michael been here three weeks?’

  ‘He had to give evidence at the trial and go back to Stockport a few times to see that Mary was managing but apart from that yes.’

  ‘Do my guardians know I am here?’

  ‘Rev. and Mrs Cooksley have visited often, as has your brother John who has called every time he has had to come to the chapels out this way. You have been asleep when they have come so I have had more pleasure from their company than you. But enough of this, eat your breakfast or I will eat it for you. Barbara Hailsworth’s jam is most excellent and this batch of bread is one of my best, even if it is immodest of me to say so.’

  They played and laughed like brother and sister, Rachael preparing morsels of the bread and jam, and Josiah making messy attempts to get them to his mouth. Eventually she forbade him to try to feed himself for fear of having too many crumbs in the bed and too many jam stains on the sheets. She resorted to feeding him herself as she might have a small child. He tried to take the teacup at one point but as soon as his hand had to support even that small weight it started to shake.

  He had never seen Rachael so happy. Before there had always been an element of sadness in her but that was not evident now. He wondered what had changed. Time would tell and he would let it tell him. He had no strength to hurry and no will to try.

  When the breakfast was finished she plumped up his pillows, tidied the bed and smoothed the sheets. ‘Now if you are sure you have the strength then I will get Michael.’

  ‘I do not know if I have the strength but now I am awake I need to know what happened to stop it preying on my mind.’

  Michael looked rather sheepish as he came in. He looked down at Josiah with eyes that smiled but lips in a pensive line.

  ‘Good to see you awake, lad. There were a goodly number of candles lit and prayers said for this result.’ He pulled up a chair and sat on the opposite side of the bed to Rachael. ‘What can you remember?’

  ‘We were pursuing Phelan, but Phelan wasn’t in charge, it was Aideen. We went over the side of the boat and I, I couldn’t save her.’

  The Irishman sighed and looked at Rachael to see if she approved. She nodded and he began.

  ‘When you and Aideen fell into the canal, Mr Bridges and I jumped onto the barge.’

  Immediately Josiah was agitated; he interrupted, ‘She shot one of the powder mill men! Is he alive?’

  ‘Her pistol was loaded with small shot. It caused many cuts to his legs and he lost quite a bit of blood but it didn’t break any bones. He was back at work in a week.’

  Rachael intervened. ‘Josiah, let Michael tell
you the story all the way through. That way you will be able to conserve your strength.’ Josiah nodded and tried to relax.

  Michael continued. ‘At first we couldn’t see either of you, then you surfaced and we realised that the strength of the current from the water pouring into the lock was pulling at Aideen. It was clear that we needed to stop both of you being drowned.

  ‘Mr Bridges found a rope, intending to get in front of Aideen so she could hang on to it. When you both surfaced again we were ready but we had forgotten Phelan. Behind us he had recovered from the blow you gave him, found his pistol and shot you in the back before we could stop him. We subdued him and pulled you out but Aideen had been sucked under. She never came up. We recovered her body later. It was wedged under the paddle on the top gate. She didn’t stand a chance.’

  ‘How did I survive? I was in the grasp of the same current.’

  ‘I caught onto you alongside the barge and we lifted you out. You coughed up a lot of water but remained unconscious but rapidly we became most worried about your wound.

  ‘We carried you and Mr Bridges’ man to the Navigation and called a surgeon. He packed the powder mill fellow off after cleaning his wounds and applying a few bandages but he didn’t want you moved very far. The pistol ball was deflected by your shoulder blade and stopped when it hit your shoulder joint. He was worried that the ball was near your lungs. Rachael can take up the story from there.’

  ‘We got a message from the Navigation that you were seriously wounded. Could we get you to Long Clough? James and I came over with a wagon and brought you back here along with the surgeon. He found and removed the pistol ball from your shoulder but the wound went bad and you started a fever. Your life hung in the balance for days. Even when the fever broke but you were still only half-conscious. It has taken a week for you to wake up properly.’