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Half a Sixpence

Page 20

by Evie Grace


  ‘Good morning, Mrs Rook, Miss Rook and Master Rook,’ she said. ‘It’s a beautiful day for a wedding, but have you heard the news?’

  ‘Mr Nobbs came to the farm earlier, Mrs Fagg,’ Ma said. ‘A constable’s brother has been murdered.’

  ‘That’s right, he’s been shot and stabbed through the heart, and now the troops are on their way from Canterbury, and Mr Knatchbull, a magistrate from Faversham, is riding hard to Boughton with a posse of seven constables.’

  ‘How do you know of this?’ Catherine asked quickly.

  ‘Farmer Curling’s son rode through Overshill a short while ago. He stopped briefly at the forge – his horse had twisted a shoe.’

  ‘It never used to be like this around here,’ Ma complained.

  ‘Times change,’ said Old Faggy. ‘I shall walk with you to the church. I love a good wedding.’

  They walked on, collecting a gaggle of villagers who were eager to see the bride and groom on their way. When they reached the church, Emily was waiting at the gate.

  ‘Catherine, how are you?’ she said, stepping towards her.

  ‘I didn’t think you’d come. You’ve taken me by surprise.’

  ‘Stephen persuaded me to put in an appearance. Don’t think I’ve forgiven you yet.’ She smiled. ‘But I am here, and I do wish you all the best for the future.’

  Catherine glanced down at Emily’s figure. ‘You are with child?’

  She nodded shyly. ‘We will be welcoming our son or daughter within the next three months.’

  ‘How wonderful,’ Catherine marvelled.

  ‘We can talk about it later. In the meantime there is the more pressing matter of your absent groom. Stephen has gone to find him.’ Emily lowered her voice and added, ‘You see how he’ll still do anything for you.’

  Her words stung a little, reminding Catherine of why they had fallen out.

  ‘Catherine, come here,’ Ma called. ‘The vicar is waiting.’

  The Reverend Browning was at the church door, dressed in his robes.

  ‘Ah, the bride is here, but alas, where is the groom?’ he said brightly. ‘It seems that he may have jilted you at the altar.’

  ‘Please don’t say that,’ Ma said. ‘I am in turmoil.’

  ‘Matty will come,’ Catherine said. ‘He won’t let me down.’

  ‘He’s here,’ someone called from the gate.

  Her heart lifted and she raised her eyes towards the skies, but her relief didn’t last, because it was Stephen, not Matty, who appeared, almost doubled up as he tried to catch his breath.

  ‘What news?’ she asked. ‘Where is your brother?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he panted. ‘I’ve run almost all the way from the top of the vale. There’s been some kind of skirmish, and now Sir William is at Fairbrook. You might have heard already that Nicholas, the brother of Constable Mears, has been shot. Sir William asked him if he were the constable and he said yes, which wasn’t true. Since then, he has tried to recruit more men and is heading for the osier beds to make a stand against whomsoever takes a stand against him.’ Stephen’s statement seemed deliberately garbled, as if by creating confusion, he’d be able to keep the worst from her.

  ‘What else? Please don’t leave me in the dark out of respect for my feelings. I need to know.’

  ‘I ran into Drusilla. She’s with them. And Jervis.’ He lowered his gaze, unable to meet Catherine’s eye. ‘Matty is with them too. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Why haven’t you fetched him here?’ Ma said.

  ‘Because I don’t know exactly where he is,’ Stephen said. ‘Drusilla gave me false information as to his whereabouts.’

  ‘Matty will marry her today. He has to,’ Ma said.

  ‘I can’t wait for more than another half-hour,’ the vicar said. ‘I have a meeting and sermons to prepare. They don’t write themselves, more’s the pity.’

  ‘Let’s meet back here this afternoon,’ Ma said. ‘That way, it is of little inconvenience to you.’

  ‘This is most irregular. No, I cannot do it. The law states that the wedding must be performed between the morning hours of eight and twelve. However, on seeing your distress, my dear ladies, I will agree to stay in the vestry where I can work in peace until midday. If you can deliver the groom by then …’

  ‘Oh, thank you, vicar. I’m most grateful,’ Ma said.

  ‘Let me know when Mr Carter arrives.’ Reverend Browning walked up the aisle and disappeared through the door into the vestry.

  ‘I’ll go and search again,’ Stephen said. ‘Perhaps I can persuade Mr Rook to lend me one of the horses.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure he’ll lend you one gladly,’ Catherine said, almost faint with panic, not about whether or not the wedding would go ahead, but for the safety of her beloved. ‘Please, hurry.’

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ Stephen said. ‘I’ll see you all later.’

  Catherine went inside the church with Ma, John, Emily and Mrs Fagg. She turned her eyes to the cross on the altar and prayed as hard as she could, but Matty didn’t come and neither did Stephen.

  ‘You should go home,’ Emily said quietly. ‘You cannot be married today.’

  ‘Come on, daughter, and you, John,’ Ma said. ‘We will not stay any longer to be made objects of ridicule. What was Matty thinking of going off with that man?’

  ‘He must be in a terrible predicament,’ Catherine insisted. ‘He would have been here if he could.’ Ma took her hand and almost dragged her from the church and down the path between the graves.

  ‘I always said he’d let you down, but when did you ever listen to me? Now you can see why I tried so hard to get Hector for you. He would have turned up. His father would have made him.’

  ‘It wouldn’t have done any good for the farm,’ Catherine argued. ‘What does Hector know about growing hops and barley?’

  ‘He could apply his understanding of managing a congregation to looking after the sheep,’ Ma said seriously. ‘Where are you going?’ she added.

  ‘To find Matty, of course.’

  ‘Oh no, you’re coming home with me and John. It’s far too dangerous to be wandering about the countryside, and besides, how will he find you if you’re out searching for him and he comes home?’

  That made sense, Catherine thought, even though little else did at the moment.

  ‘As soon as he turns up, I will personally drag him to the church and make him marry you. I hope he’s all right.’

  ‘I didn’t think you cared. You’ve always hated him.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t like him at all. This is a completely unsuitable match, but I don’t give a sixpence that you will marry and live in abject misery for the rest of your lives. What matters is that he makes an honest woman of you when you’re carrying his child, and more importantly, save Wanstall Farm for the Rooks.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ Catherine said, her cheeks burning with anger and resentment.

  ‘You heard me.’

  ‘I will be a Carter, and proud of it.’

  ‘But there will be Rooks at the farm as long as Pa and I are alive. That’s all that matters to me.’

  Catherine stared at her. Now that her marriage to Matty might not be the saving grace the Rooks had hoped for, Ma was showing her true colours. She was a mean and selfish woman, and Catherine despised her from that moment. Ma didn’t care that Matty was in danger. She didn’t care for him at all. Her professed dislike of her betrothed wounded Catherine deeply. She had nothing more to say to her.

  They returned to the house where Pa greeted them, his brow etched with worry. If he noticed the tension between the two women, he didn’t mention it.

  ‘Stephen’s borrowed one of the horses. George is beside himself. I’ve tried to reassure him, but it’s no use. When the miller delivered a sack of flour, he told George that he’d seen a detachment of the 45th Infantry marching along the London Road, and now he’s convinced there’s going to be a fight.’

  ‘Do you think so?’ Catherine asked. What h
ope did a motley crowd of labourers with Sir William in charge have against a group of highly trained soldiers?

  ‘The sight of the army will send them scattering across the countryside. They’ll run for it. You mark my words.’

  ‘Sir William has a pistol. He used it to shoot the constable’s brother,’ Ma said.

  ‘I don’t think one pistol will be a match for the infantry and their guns, do you?

  ‘I’m hungry,’ John said suddenly, reminding them of his presence.

  ‘Come on, son, let’s eat and then we’ll patrol the farm.’ Pa patted him on the shoulder. ‘I’m sure Ma will have a cold pie and pickles in the pantry.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ Ma said.

  ‘Because I looked.’

  ‘There’s a sheep’s head in the pot,’ Catherine said, feeling sick at the thought of the soft meat falling from the bone. She turned and headed inside.

  ‘Aren’t you joining us?’ Pa said.

  ‘Let her be,’ she heard Ma say. ‘If she wants to starve herself to death, it’s up to her.’

  Upstairs, Catherine sat on the edge of the bed, resting her hands on her belly as she waited for news. Two hours passed before she heard the sound of a horse’s hooves. She ran down to the yard to find Stephen dismounting from the cob that Pa used for pulling the cart. The mare was puffing and blowing, and foaming with sweat.

  ‘Where is he?’ she cried. ‘Have you found him?’

  ‘I have.’ He was grim-faced as he turned and took both her hands.

  ‘Tell me. Is he well? Why isn’t he with you?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Catherine,’ he said.

  Chapter Eleven

  The Battle of Bossenden

  Pa, George and Ma, having heard the commotion, came quickly to hear what Stephen had to say.

  ‘There’s been a battle over in Bossenden Wood. Matty has been taken prisoner at the Red Lion.’

  ‘We must go to him,’ Catherine said, trying to take the cob by the reins.

  ‘Let’s hear the details first,’ Pa said. ‘Forewarned is forearmed. Fetch the lad a drink, Ma. Not small beer. Something stronger. He looks as if he’s had quite a shock. George, turn the horse out, let it roll and have some grass. Catherine, restrain yourself.’

  Stephen sat on the bench by the woodpile. Catherine knelt in the grass alongside him. Pa stood with his fingers through his braces, tugging on them as if to hold himself upright. Ma returned swiftly from the house with a bottle of spirits. She pulled out the cork and handed the bottle to Stephen, who glugged back the contents. He rested his hands on his thighs and leaned forwards, coughing like a dying man.

  ‘That sounds like it has bones in it.’ Pa retrieved the bottle from his grasp. ‘Now, tell us everything you know.’

  ‘Go on, my son.’ George offered Ma the remaining space on the bench, but she turned it down with a shake of her head.

  ‘I hope I say this right,’ Stephen began. ‘It goes like this. Knatchbull – he’s the magistrate – and a party of men followed Sir William to the osier beds.’

  Catherine knew where the osiers were – they were clumps of coppiced willow grown for making withies, for thatching and basket-making.

  Stephen continued, ‘They didn’t stay there all that long. Sir William gave a blast on his bugle to call his followers together and they returned to Bossenden. Knatchbull left some of his men to keep a watch on them from a distance while he met Doctor Poore at the inn at Dunkirk. By this time, the soldiers were there – a hundred of them, can you believe? Anyway, Doctor Poore read the Riot Act to the crowd outside the inn and the soldiers separated into two groups. One party entered the wood through Old Barn Lane. The other, led by a captain by the name of Reid, made their way into the wood further east.’

  ‘And?’ Pa said, when he paused for a moment.

  ‘Something went wrong. A lieutenant who was with Captain Reid’s party moved too quickly and was shot as he advanced to arrest Sir William.’

  ‘Shot? Oh no.’ Catherine pressed her fingers to her lips.

  ‘Sir William fell in a hail of bullets. His men, armed only with staves of flayed oak, fought fiercely, so it is said. Eight are dead. Seven are injured. The rest have been rounded up and taken prisoner.’

  ‘Matty?’ she whispered hoarsely.

  He nodded. ‘And Jervis.’

  ‘What were they doing there?’ Pa exclaimed. ‘Why did Matty risk everything, and on his wedding day?’

  ‘How many times have I told him to mind his own business? All I wanted was for him to find Jervis so he could see his poorly ma, not get involved with Sir William’s cause.’ Tears rolled down George’s wizened cheeks. ‘Our family is ruined.’

  ‘I can understand why Jervis would join him,’ Catherine said, remembering how he had pushed his younger brother forwards at the harvest supper to denounce the arrival of the threshing machine. Jervis had always been on the edge of society. ‘But Matty wasn’t involved. He already knew that there was something not right about Sir William’s claim that he was immortal.’

  ‘I’m sure that Matty’s capture is a mistake on some young constable’s part,’ Stephen said. ‘Your father will have a word with the magistrate and he’ll be freed by the end of the day.’

  ‘We’ll have to see about that,’ Pa said. ‘Where did you say he was being held?’

  ‘The Red Lion at Boughton,’ Stephen confirmed. ‘The prisoners and the slain have been taken there.’

  ‘Then we must go right now,’ Pa said. ‘We’ll take the cart and one of the other horses. Sunny will do.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Catherine said.

  ‘I don’t think that’s wise.’

  ‘I’ll drive,’ George said. ‘I need to see my sons.’

  ‘John will have to come with us as well,’ Ma said. ‘I’m not going to miss out on the chance to see Sir William close up. Who knows? If Matty’s wrong about him, we might be there in time to see him rise from the dead. I’ve seen him, and if he turns out to have been a liar, he’d be the most accomplished liar I’ve ever known.’

  ‘That’s a load of cock and bull,’ Pa said as George walked away to fetch the harness and the fresh horse, a steady character who would be content to wait outside an inn for a while, as long as he had a nosebag.

  They climbed onto the cart – George, Stephen, Pa, Ma, John and Catherine and three of the labourers, including one called Mr Lake whom Pa had recently taken on – and travelled through Overshill and on to Boughton, where it seemed as if the whole of England had descended. There were crowds of traders setting up their stalls of sherbets, pickled whelks, jellied eels, and penny pies; visitors laughing as if they were at a fair; mourners crying and comforting each other.

  ‘What brings all these people here?’ Catherine was sitting between Ma and Stephen in the middle of the cart on some old hessian sacking, but it did nothing to deaden the jolts as the wheels rolled through the ruts and potholes.

  ‘They’re coming to see for themselves that the great Sir William Courtenay is dead,’ Stephen said. ‘It’s a momentous occasion.’

  Catherine grimaced as he went on, ‘You might judge that they are rather ghoulish in wanting to be part of history, but it’s natural to be curious.’

  ‘Of course it is,’ Ma said. ‘I’m here out of nat’ral curiosity, not ghoulishness as you put it, young man. Just imagine telling your grandchildren that you were there at the resurrection of the new Messiah.’

  Catherine could hardly bear to look at her. How could she act so light of heart when men had been killed?

  George dropped his passengers outside the Red Lion. Catherine pushed through the small crowd of people drinking beer to address the constable who was on guard at the door.

  ‘Where are the prisoners?’ she said urgently.

  ‘They’re in a room upstairs at the back, but you can’t go up there, young lady,’ he said, holding her by the arm as she made to head inside. ‘We’re waiting for the coroner to arrive, and to interview witness
es.’

  She was so frantic to see Matty that she hardly heard what he was saying.

  ‘I must get him out of there and take him home with me today.’

  ‘There’s no way that’s going to happen,’ the constable said harshly. ‘Some of those men have committed a dreadful series of crimes. They have to remain locked up until the offenders have been identified so that justice can be served.’

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  ‘You might be able to see them from the yard through there, though.’ The constable’s voice softened. ‘Is it your sweetheart who’s up there?’

  She nodded. ‘I’m sure he’s innocent. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.’

  ‘If I had a penny for everyone who’s said that today, I’d be a wealthy man. I’m sorry. It’s been a horrible day – I’ve lost two of my closest friends.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I hope for your sake that he’s freed without a stain on his character.’

  ‘I beg you to let me see him. There must be a way—’

  ‘Calm down, miss. You aren’t the only one in a bind,’ he interrupted. ‘Every family in Boughton has been touched by this. If you want to catch a glimpse of your young man, go that way.’

  She made her way to the yard at the rear of the inn and struggled through a wailing crowd of women and girls, the wives, sisters and children of the men who were being held upstairs. Shading her eyes, she looked up and caught sight of Matty’s face pressed to the glass in a narrow window above.

  ‘Don’t worry, my love,’ she shouted. ‘You will soon be freed.’

  ‘I’m sorry, ducky, but our menfolk aren’t going anywhere soon,’ an elderly woman said from beside her. ‘That maniac who lies dead in the barn next door has had them snatched away from us. They’ll all be hanged.’

  ‘He’s responsible for this,’ another woman muttered. ‘He’s the one to blame.’

  ‘My son is in that room. He has a wife and five children, and he helps me out whenever he can. I don’t see how we’ll survive without him,’ the elderly woman said.

  ‘You mustn’t say that.’

  ‘They’re all doomed – I can feel it in my bones.’

  ‘Well, I hope and pray that your bones are wrong,’ Catherine said curtly.

 

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