Claim the Kingdom

by John Fletcher

  He walked down the hill into the settlement.

  *

  The front door opened and Jack came in.

  Gough looked up, hiding his relief behind an instant show of anger. ‘About time. Where have you been?’

  ‘Walking.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Through the bush.’

  Gough was on his feet. ‘You did no such thing!’

  ‘I needed to think.’

  ‘You must never go out in the bush by yourself.’

  ‘Why not? I saw nothing.’

  ‘Then you were damned lucky. The blacks will kill you, soon as look at you, out there. You want to go walking, let me know and I’ll arrange for an escort to go with you.’

  ‘You weren’t here. Besides, I didn’t go far.’

  ‘The other side of the ridge can be too far if there’s anyone there! In any case, it’s too easy to get lost when you’re alone.’

  ‘I can believe that. There’s not much out there, that’s certain.’ He looked at the table. ‘Is that breakfast?’

  ‘Help yourself,’ Gough said. ‘When you’ve eaten, I want to take you up to Parramatta, show you the land we’ve got there. I’m looking to you to tell me what you think we should do with it.’

  Jack hesitated then thought, why not? At least it’ll keep my mind occupied.

  *

  Jonathan had brought some rough drawings with him. Thornton had arranged a large white sheet on the riverbank in the shade of a clump of trees. They sat down while Jonathan unrolled the drawings and spread them out.

  Thornton bent forward and examined them, talking in an undertone, partly to the Hagwoods, partly to himself.

  ‘Four reception rooms, ’allway, cellar, kitchen …’ He glanced up. ‘Fine ’ouse, Mr ’agwood, right fine ’ouse.’ He moved the top drawing and consulted the one beneath. ‘Servants’ quarters. Office. What materials would Mr ’agwood be wantin’ to use?’

  ‘The best.’ Jonathan said. ‘This will be our permanent home.’

  Thornton sucked almost-invisible lips. ‘Aye. Brick, then. And stone. Tiles for t’ roof. Expensive but the best.’

  ‘Brick needn’t be expensive.’ Jonathan expected great things of Thornton but took it for granted he would steal from him if he could. ‘With the brickyards here in Parramatta, they shouldn’t cost that much.’

  Thornton shook his head gloomily. ‘Even so …’

  ‘Even so,’ Jonathan interrupted. ‘You’ll be giving me an estimate of costs, will you not?’

  ‘If Mr ’agwood wishes …’

  ‘I certainly wish it.’

  ‘Just the ’ouse?’

  ‘Not just the house. Everything I have indicated on the plans.’ He pointed. ‘The property to be fenced – so. The grounds to be laid out around the house – so. The paved courtyard – so. Everything as shown.’ He rolled up the papers and handed them to Thornton. ‘You’ll need these. When can you let me have figures?’

  Thornton sucked his lips. ‘Next week?’

  Hagwood stared down his long nose. ‘Today’s Wednesday, man.’

  Thornton shook his head again. ‘Lots of work there. I couldn’t promise Mr ’agwood a day earlier than Monday.’

  ‘Saturday.’ His no-arguments voice.

  Thornton looked at him. ‘I’ll try.’ Doubtfully.

  Hagwood nodded, face impassive. ‘Make sure you succeed. I need to discuss something else with you,’ he said. ‘I am going to Corps headquarters now and we shall be returning to Sydney Cove when the tide turns.’ He looked at the watch he pulled from his fob. ‘I’ll see you here in one hour.’

  Thornton inclined his head on his long neck. ‘I’ll be here, sir.’

  ‘Make sure you’re not late.’ He turned to his wife. ‘My dear, shall we be walking back?’

  They made their way towards the little township.

  ‘What do you think?’ Jonathan asked.

  ‘Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. The land and the position.’ She turned to him, taking his hand. ‘My dear, I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you for making all this possible.’

  He was absurdly pleased. ‘We’ll have to see what Thornton comes up with about the house.’

  ‘If you’re sure he will prove the right man for the job,’ she said.

  He glanced at her, eyebrows raised. ‘Do you doubt it?’

  She hesitated. ‘I’m not sure. He is extremely well mannered but did you see his eyes? I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him.’

  ‘Why? What could he do to us?’

  ‘Nothing, I suppose. He made me feel uncomfortable, that was all.’

  ‘I think he may be very useful to us,’ Jonathan said. ‘I have several plans for him.’

  *

  Cash was back aboard Centaur within an hour of Jack and Gough’s departure up-river.

  A member of the crew led the way to Pike’s cabin, his bare feet slapping on the deck. Cash saw the hefty Irish mate working with a gang of sailors at the stern of the vessel, manoeuvring the heavy rudder as it hung in slings over the side.

  The atmosphere in Pike’s cabin was cool after the heat on deck.

  Pike looked up at Cash and frowned. ‘Your father not with you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Come in, anyway. Sit down.’

  They faced each other.

  ‘I want to make one thing clear,’ Pike said abruptly. ‘If it helps him, I’m quite willing to go along with the pretence that I’m dealing with you and not your father. A front to keep the governor happy. As long as we both understand it is only a pretence. So for as I’m concerned, it’s your father I’m dealing with and not you. Is that clear?’

  The contemptuous words made Cash’s job easy. ‘What is clear is that you misunderstand the situation.’

  Pike eyed him narrowly. ‘How so?’

  ‘You are not dealing with my father. No pretence, no front. You are dealing with me.’

  Pike leant back in his chair, fingers linked behind his neck. ‘Absolutely not.’

  Cash stood. ‘I’ll bid you good day then, Captain Pike.’

  He walked to the door. Behind him, the legs of Pike’s chair crashed back on the deck. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

  Cash kept walking. ‘Ashore.’

  ‘We’ve made no arrangements about the cargo!’

  Cash turned to face him, his hand on the latch of the cabin door. ‘There won’t be any arrangements until you get it through your head it’s me you’re dealing with and not my father.’

  Pike was on his feet, his face flushed and angry. ‘We had an agreement …’

  ‘Precisely. We had an agreement. You and I. We shook hands, not my father.’

  ‘Sit down,’ Pike said.

  Cash shook his head. ‘No point unless we both understand where we are.’

  They watched each other for what seemed like minutes, then Pike’s mouth twitched.

  ‘So tell me about our cargo.’

  Cash returned to his seat. ‘It’s down the coast.’

  ‘What’s it doing there?’

  ‘It’s the best place.’

  ‘Asking for trouble, loading in the open sea,’ Pike said.

  ‘It’s not the open sea. It’s well sheltered.’

  Pike considered him, lips pursed. ‘But why does your father … excuse me, why do you think it’s the right way to do it?’

  ‘The cedar wood is Crown property. The consignment we’ve got was felled before the proclamation was made so it’s legally ours. All the same, it obviously makes sense to keep it out of the way of the authorities.’

  Pike thought about it. ‘When will you be ready to load?’

  ‘We’re ready now. When can you sail?’

  ‘Two days. Maybe three.’

  Cash frowned. ‘So long?’

  ‘We’re refitting the rudder. You must have seen it as you came along the deck. It got damaged when we touched a reef out in the Pacific. I’ll not leave until I’m satisfied it’s
working properly.’

  ‘And that’ll take two days?’

  ‘Or three.’ Pike walked with Cash to the door. ‘I’ll let you know as soon as we’re ready.’ He shook Cash’s hand. ‘I think we may be able to do business together.’

  Cash nodded, face impassive, although inside he was gleeful. ‘That is my intention, Captain.’ He walked out on to the deck before he delivered his parting shot. ‘Two days, then.’

  *

  Gough and Jack arrived in Parramatta after a pleasant, three-hour journey up-river from Sydney Cove.

  The day was warm, the sky clear. They passed one or two small boats heading downstream but for the most part had the river to themselves. As the banks narrowed, they caught occasional glimpses of kangaroos bounding away through the bush. Everywhere there was the mocking yakka yakka of the laughing birds.

  Fields of ripening crops were all about them as the boat drew in to a wooden landing that had been constructed on the northern bank of the river. Another boat was moored there but there was no sign of any crew.

  ‘Looks like a good yield,’ Jack said, eyeing the fields, his elbows resting on the warm coaming of the boat. His underlying depression remained but the sight of the flourishing crops and the promise of a rich harvest warmed his farmer’s heart.

  Ashore a scattering of people were going through the motions of working – half a dozen soldiers who recognised Gough and saluted him in a lackadaisical way, two women gossiping at the entrance of a strongly constructed building of stone and slate tiles, a team of convicts hauling a two-wheeled cart piled with potatoes. A soldier watching a team working on the wheel of a cart stiffened and saluted.

  Gough gestured at the tree behind him. ‘Get out of the sun, man, why don’t you? You can watch them just as well from there.’

  Jack followed his father as he strode down a path beside the river until, half a mile downstream from the tiny settlement, they reached a thick stand of trees that ran from the water to the summit of a low hill.

  *

  Jonathan prized punctuality as much in himself as in others and it was precisely an hour later, having visited Corps Headquarters to lay a charge against the soldier Larkin, when he walked back along the river.

  Ira Thornton was waiting for him beneath the same clump of trees and Jonathan was pleased to see he had not been wasting his time. He had paced out the site for the house and pushed rough pegs into the ground at the corners of the proposed building.

  ‘Mr ’agwood will see t’ public rooms will command a view of the river as far as t’ bend,’ he said. ‘Yet it’s ’igh enough to avoid any danger o’ flooding.’

  ‘Don’t do too much until we agree the price,’ Jonathan said. ‘I wouldn’t wish you to waste your time.’

  Thornton’s pale eyes showed no reaction. ‘Mr ’agwood wanted to see me about summat?’

  ‘Two things, in fact.’ The square of white cloth was still spread upon the grass. Jonathan gestured towards it. ‘Let’s sit down and I’ll tell you about them.’

  Ira Thornton had arrived two years earlier with the notorious Third Fleet. Conditions in the convict holds had been very different from the deck accommodation that Jane Somers and her parents had enjoyed but Thornton had survived where over two hundred had died. He had continued to survive, and to flourish, from the day he came ashore at Sydney Cove. Within a month he had persuaded two young ensigns that it would be in their interests to get him a ticket of leave. Within three months he had set up a trading organisation that was soon paying handsome dividends to all three of them. With his share of the profits Thornton invested in a string of small commercial enterprises, ranging from house building and grog shops to organised prostitution. He was subservient to those in authority, ruthless with his peers and had an astute business brain that had enabled him to accumulate a fair amount of wealth already. In many ways, he and Jonathan Hagwood were kindred spirits. Jonathan knew him by reputation, as everyone in the colony did, but this was the first time they had had dealings.

  ‘Captain Pike of Centaur,’ Jonathan said. ‘I have been discussing with him the possibility of our doing some business together.’

  He watched Thornton closely as he spoke. Then convict was reputed to have the best sources of information in the colony. It would be interesting to know if he had already heard about the Home Secretary’s ban on trade but Thornton’s face remained expressionless.

  ‘On the face of it, Captain Pike is agreeable to my suggestions. However, I believe he has also been talking to other people. I need to know for certain what he has in mind.’

  ‘Tha needs a spy,’ Thornton said.

  Jonathan waved his hand impatiently. ‘Whatever you want to call it.’ He had thought that Thornton might protest that he had no way of obtaining such information but apparently that was not the way he did things.

  ‘I’ll get that information for Mr ’agwood,’ Thornton said.

  Jonathan knew better than to ask how. ‘My name must not be mentioned.’

  ‘No fear o’ that.’

  ‘You will let me know your fee, of course.’

  Thornton shook his head. ‘Won’t be no charge for that, Mr ’agwood.’

  Jonathan stared at him, then nodded. ‘As you please. The second matter is more complex. I understand you have been trading on behalf of two of the Corps’ officers?’

  ‘Mr ’uggett and Mr Brown. That’s right, sir.’

  ‘Are you still acting for them?’

  ‘Off and on, like. Nowt regular.’ Thornton’s mouth turned down disparagingly. ‘Fact is, Mr ’agwood, them two doesn’t ’ave much to sell. They’s not what I’d call serious ’bout tradin’.’ He sucked his teeth. ‘Makes it a bit difficult, like, if Mr ’agwood knows what I mean.’

  ‘I am looking for someone to represent me,’ Jonathan said.

  ‘In what areas, sir? If I may ask?’

  ‘All areas. I am very serious about trading.’

  ‘So I’ve ’eard, sir. But more specifically, like?’

  ‘Rum.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘There is a big market for rum, Thornton, as I am sure you know.’

  ‘Aye, there is that. And not only among the gentry. The lower classes, sir, is very ’ot for rum.’

  ‘It is with the lower classes I would wish you to deal.’

  ‘I understand, sir. And ’ow does tha see this ’appening?’

  ‘I shall arrange to have quantities of spirit delivered to you as it arrives in the colony and you will dispose of it through your own outlets.’

  ‘I sees a problem there,’ Thornton said. ‘Mebbe I should explain trading conditions among the convicts?’

  Jonathan inclined his head.

  ‘For the most part it consists of selling a glass here, a cup there. Very occasionally a full bottle.’

  ‘What of it?’

  ‘Very time-consumin’, sir. Not that I grudges the time, tha understands. But it cuts efficiency and profitability. It cuts profitability a lot, sir.’

  ‘You seem to have managed perfectly well up to now.’ He spoke shortly, suspecting Thornton of some confidence trick.

  ‘Mr ’agwood will remember I mentioned that Mr ’uggett and Mr Brown wasn’t what I’d call serious ’bout trade. And, of course, they ’ad access to fewer supplies. Being junior officers, tha understands, sir. Now, if I reads thee correctly, tha’s thinking of a much larger and more professional operation.’ The pale eyes, expressionless as slate, stared at Jonathan.

  He waited. Eventually Jonathan said, ‘Of course.’

  ‘So tha sees, sir, the arrangements I ’ave at the moment won’t suffice. I can’t promise to shift large quantities of spirits with my existing resources.’

  ‘Perhaps I should look elsewhere then.’

  ‘Tha can do that.’ Thornton contemplated the steady flow of the river. On the far bank, two men were climbing through the grass towards the summit of the low hill. ‘Only thing, I doubt Mr ’agwood won’t find no one to assist ’im, sir
,’ Thornton said.

  Because you’ll make damn sure there is nobody. ‘What’s your solution?’

  ‘I think if we ’ad a shop where people could come in for a cup or two of spirits when they felt like it, Mr ’agwood would find a very considerable increase in sales.’

  ‘A grog shop? But you already have several. That’s why I’m speaking to you.’

  Thornton’s expression remained unmoving. ‘Allus room for more, sir. The demand is well nigh insatiable.’

  Jonathan wondered how he would hide his own involvement. Trading in liquor was as flagrant a breach of Home Office orders as it was possible to imagine.

  Would the governor object on security grounds? he wondered. Surely not. The existence of liquor shops would be likely to improve matters rather than the reverse – any brawling would be confined to the premises, or at least nearby, and so could more easily be contained.

  ‘What would such a tavern involve?’

  ‘Not much, sir. A small building, nothing elaborate. Somewhere for folks to sit. And of course some form of security for the liquor, to stop folks helping theirselves.’

  Their eyes met.

  ‘Could you organise that?’ Jonathan asked.

  ‘I can organise everything, sir.’

  ‘All right, then. I agree. Please arrange it.’

  ‘There’s a question of money, sir.’

  Jonathan frowned. ‘Money?’

  ‘For t’ building, sir. For furniture. We bain’t talking of much, sir.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘A few guineas. No more.’

  ‘If I put up all the capital, I shall expect a greater share of the profits.’

  ‘Mr ’agwood will see that if he’s got t’ greater share of the profit me own incentive will be reduced. And of course I’ve still got to find the men to serve in t’ shop and look after t’ stocks. They need to be ’ard men, tha understands, sir. Very ’ard. They don’t come cheap.’

  They regarded each other.

  ‘We would have to agree on prices,’ Jonathan said.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘How much liquor would you be able to shift, this way?’

  ‘As much as Mr ’agwood can supply, sir.’