Claim the Kingdom

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Claim the Kingdom Page 35

by John Fletcher


  Crabbe looked out of humour. ‘I understand you have been away for four days. Is that correct?’

  ‘Three, sir.’

  Crabbe breathed through his nose. ‘Three days or four does not signify, Mr Tremain. Where did you go?’

  ‘I was not aware there were any laws against leaving port, Your Excellency,’ Cash said.

  ‘Plenty of other laws, though‚’ Owen said sourly.

  Cash turned. ‘What did you have in mind, Captain?’

  Crabbe said, ‘Captain Owen has laid a complaint against you, Mr Tremain.’

  ‘I am sorry to hear that, sir. What about?’

  Owen answered for the governor. ‘Did you or did you not have a rendezvous down the coast with the ship Centaur?’

  ‘Yes, Captain. I did.’

  ‘You admit it?’ Owen’s blue eyes bulged.

  ‘I was not aware there was any law against that, either, Captain.’

  ‘But why do it at all, eh?’ Crabbe said.

  Once again Owen’s indignation overcame him. ‘Because she’s going to London, that’s why!’

  Crabbe was not well pleased by the interruption. ‘I was speaking to Mr Tremain, Captain.’

  ‘Captain Owen is quite right‚’ Cash said to the governor. ‘Centaur is on her way to London.’

  Owen looked fit to explode, his face stroke-red, spittle flying. ‘You stand there and say so?’

  ‘It may be against your company policy, Captain, but it’s not against the laws of this colony. I’ll say it to your face, Captain – it’s time your company’s policy was broken.’ His blood was up. To hell with diplomacy, he thought. What right had the East India Company to interfere in his life? ‘That’s why Centaur’s headed for London. To overturn your embargo!’

  ‘The East India Company is essential to England’s wellbeing,’ Owen declared.

  Cash eyed him contemptuously. ‘New South Wales is not England. And you, Captain, are talking balderdash!’

  Crabbe slapped his hand on the surface of the desk. ‘You will withdraw that remark, Mr Tremain!’

  ‘Sir, this colony’s future depends on its ability to trade independently …’

  ‘I ordered you to withdraw the remark!’

  Cash took a deep breath. ‘Very well. I withdraw it.’

  Owen was still furious. No doubt his failure to prevent Centaur’s escape had not improved his temper. ‘And you were on board Centaur when she ignored my order to heave to?’

  ‘No, Captain, I was not.’

  ‘That is a lie!’

  A dangerous silence.

  ‘Captain –’ Crabbe began.

  Cash spoke across him, sensing an advantage. ‘And now I’ll thank you to withdraw that remark, Captain Owen.’

  ‘You say you were at the inlet? Actually inside it?’

  ‘I did not say so but I was, yes.’

  ‘And you claim you did not leave on Centaur?’

  ‘That is what I said, yes.’

  ‘Then I withdraw nothing! I had two boats enter the inlet and they reported no one there after Centaur left!’

  ‘I’m not responsible for your men’s eyesight, Captain!’

  ‘What does it matter if you were there or not?’ Crabbe asked irritably.

  ‘Sir, Captain Owen has called me a liar. I have asked him to withdraw and he has refused. We all know the next step.’ Milking the advantage for all he was worth.

  ‘We know nothing of the sort,’ Crabbe said. ‘Owen, you will apologise.’

  ‘I am not prepared …’

  Crabbe was on his feet. ‘I represent the Crown in this colony, Captain! You will obey my orders or I shall have you put in irons!’

  Owen’s lips puckered with rage but he was not willing to stand up to the governor. ‘Since the governor insists …’

  Crabbe sat down again and looked at Cash. ‘You think the colony should be entitled to trade with London direct, do you?’

  ‘How can we ever become self-supporting, otherwise?’

  Crabbe turned to Owen. ‘He has a point, you know.’

  ‘No, sir.’ Doggedly. ‘Forgive me. I disagree.’

  Crabbe’s laugh neighed in the richly-furnished room. ‘Of course you disagree. Worth more than your job’s worth to do anything else, eh?’

  ‘I would like to give Mr Tremain a word of advice‚’ Owen said, mouth white. ‘He is young, of course‚’ he spoke disparagingly, ‘and he is naturally anxious to make his way in the world, I understand that, but there are rules, Mr Tremain. Regulations you would be better to observe. You would do well not to make enemies, yet that is what you seem set on doing.’

  Somehow Cash managed to smile. ‘Thank you for your advice, Captain. I shall remember it. And the circumstances in which it was given.’ He turned to the governor. ‘Is there anything else, sir?’

  Crabbe did not look at Owen. ‘I don’t think there is.’

  He walked Cash to the door. ‘He’s right, you know. Enemies are things to avoid.’

  ‘I have no wish to make an enemy of Captain Owen, sir, but this colony must become self-supporting. I see the East India Company as standing in the way of that.’

  Crabbe shook his head. ‘When I spoke of enemies, it was not Owen I had in mind.’

  *

  Cash stopped off at Gough’s cottage on his way home.

  Gough and Maud were sitting in front of the fire, the picture of domesticity, no need any longer to conceal their relationship.

  Cash reported what had happened and how Pike had got away.

  Gough laughed. ‘That Owen! I’ll wager he was fit to be tied.’

  ‘If we win in London we can tell Owen to go jump in the sea.’

  ‘You’d better win in London‚’ Gough said. ‘Everything’s riding on that.’

  ‘I think we’ll win.’

  ‘So do I‚’ Gough said. ‘I got a legal opinion on it, a year ago.’ He got to his feet and went through into the back of the house. He came back with a folded letter which he pushed across to Cash. ‘Read that.’

  It was an opinion from a law firm in Chancery Lane, London, expressing the view that the British East India Company’s attempts to extend its Asiatic monopoly to include the Crown colony of New South Wales was almost certainly illegal and was probably ultra vires the constitution of the company as set out in the relevant legislation. They were therefore of the opinion that, in any litigation arising from an attempt to break the Company’s monopoly, the Company would lose. They were, they concluded, honoured to be his most obedient servant.

  Cash looked at his father. ‘Why did you never tell me?’

  Grough grinned. ‘You wanted to run things. So run them.’

  ‘I never wanted to do anything of the sort‚’ Cash said hotly. ‘It was entirely your idea.’

  ‘Let’s say I took a gamble on you. I mentioned it, that time on board Centaur. I put the idea in your mind. What you did about it was up to you. But I think you’re right, my son. I think you’re going to win.’

  It was a good, warm feeling where a moment earlier he had felt anger.

  Cash shared a drink with them, feeling himself beginning to relax.

  ‘How’s Jack?’

  ‘Middling.’

  Cash looked at him. ‘That all?’

  ‘Tes nothing serious. Just seems down, like. Too much work on his plate, perhaps.’ His father sounded unconvinced.

  ‘He’s got his convict allocation.’

  ‘Doesn’t get as much out of them as he should. He’s not tough enough with them.’

  ‘Maybe I should give him a hand for a couple of days.’

  ‘Be good if you could do that‚’ Gough said.

  ‘I’ll go up tomorrow.’ He yawned.

  ‘You’re about asleep on your feet‚’ Maud said. ‘You get along home. Cuddy’s expecting you.’

  Reeling with weariness, he walked the last few yards to his own gate. The door opened as he walked up the short path. Cuddy stood waiting, the candlelight shining on her
fair hair.

  He went in, collapsed in his chair before the fire and allowed her to fuss him. She brought him food and drink. The rum made his head swim.

  ‘Join me‚’ he said.

  She objected half-heartedly but in the end came and sat with him while he ate.

  He gestured with his knife at the bottle. ‘Have a drink‚’ he said, mouth full.

  She shook her head. ‘Best not.’

  Her eyes were large, watching him.

  ‘You used to.’ Teasing her.

  ‘Used to do lots of things.’

  ‘Ever miss it?’

  She had always believed her past embarrassed him. If he hadn’t been so tired, she thought, he wouldn’t have asked.

  She shook her head. ‘Nah.’ Since he had raised the subject, she said, ‘Remember when I met you?’

  ‘Shall I ever forget?’

  The smoky room, knowing faces like gargoyles peering slyly from the shadows, the screaming, half-naked harridan that had been Cuddy in those days. Now, he thought, they resembled what he had just seen at his father’s house – the two of them, companionable before the fire, reminiscing over shared memories. Like an old married couple.

  Cuddy had water heating on the fire in the kitchen. She fetched it, and the iron bath. He sat and let her pamper him, enjoying it.

  ‘Get in‚’ she said.

  He looked at her.

  ‘I seen plenty o’ men wiv their clothes off. You know that‚’ she said, reading his thoughts.

  ‘Maybe I’m scared of the competition.’

  She helped him out of his salt-stained clothes. He sat in the bath before the fire, knees to his chest.

  ‘You needn’t‚’ she said.

  ‘Needn’t what?’

  ‘Be scared of the competition.’

  She scrubbed his back for him.

  ‘I can manage the rest‚’ he said.

  She fetched a warm towel and he dried himself. Afterwards he stood there, swaying, the towel about him.

  ‘Bed‚’ she said.

  I’ll sleep for a week‚’ he told her.

  He had no idea how long he had been asleep but he came to abruptly, conscious he was not alone. His first thought was of Owen but that was nonsense. The East India captain was not the sort to send someone after him. Others might, though.

  Following his father’s advice, he had formed the habit of sleeping with a knife under the blanket. Now he took it, quietly, turning to face the room, eyes trying to pierce the darkness. He could see nothing. Had he imagined it? Then he heard it again: the sound of someone breathing.

  He put his legs out of bed and stood up abruptly, knife pointed and ready.

  ‘Who is it?’

  A gasp and silence.

  ‘Don’t try and get away‚’ Cash said into the darkness. He took a step forward and stumbled over something.

  A muffled cry. A woman’s voice.

  He lit a candle. It was Cuddy, huddled on the floor, face hidden. He looked at her.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

  She said something, her voice muffled.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Sleepin’.’

  ‘On the floor?’

  He put the candle down, sat on the edge of the bed and drew her up beside him.

  ‘You’re freezing.’

  ‘I’m all right.’ Her teeth were chattering.

  He got it out of her eventually – how the men had come after her, how she had got away.

  ‘Thornton,’ he said, rage scalding him.

  She told him she had spent the rest of that night in her old bed in his father’s outhouse, and in the morning told Maud Clark what had happened.

  ‘Wanted me to stay with them, she did.’

  ‘Why didn’t you?’

  She pouted. ‘Someone ’ad to look after this place, di’n’ they?’

  ‘Why didn’t they say anything to me about it?’

  ‘I asked her not to.’

  ‘But my father …’

  ‘She said nuffin to ’im.’

  ‘Why not?’

  She lifted one shoulder. ‘’e couldn’t do nuffin.’

  ‘That’s crazy.’

  She shook her head, mouth stubborn, not looking at him. She did not know how to say that it was the first time in her life anyone had trusted her and she had not been willing to let him down.

  ‘I bin sleepin’ in ’ere the rest of the time. Not in the bed‚’ she added hastily, ‘on the floor.’

  ‘But I’m back now.’

  She rubbed her eyes sleepily with the back of her hand. Her hair, clean nowadays, hung loose about her face. ‘I was goin’ to sleep out there, in front of the fire.’

  ‘Why didn’t you?’

  ‘Dunno.’

  She knew but wasn’t saying. She had wanted to lie beside him, listening to the sound of his breathing.

  ‘I could have knifed you.’

  Her eyes gleamed in the candlelight as she looked at him through her mantle of fair hair. ‘But you di’n’.’

  ‘You’re freezing‚’ he said again. He was getting cold himself. ‘Get into the bed until you warm up.’

  She looked at him. ‘I shouldn’t.’

  ‘Just to get warm‚’ he told her. ‘Nothing else.’

  He cuddled her, wondering what on earth he was doing.

  He could feel her breasts through her shift. He touched them and she moaned. He ran his fingers up her back, feeling the knobs of her spine smooth beneath the satin skin.

  No corrugations. In the first years of settlement, they had flogged the women convicts too. At least she had missed that. They still did on Norfolk Island, or so he’d heard.

  His fingers moved further. She moved against him, touching in her turn. Her hand paused.

  ‘My God‚’ she said and burrowed against him.

  It was madness but now it had its own momentum and he neither could nor would stop it. He kissed her mouth, her breasts, and the room went dark as passion took him.

  At the last, she cried out.

  He looked down at her. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I didn’ want to stay out there by the fire‚’ she wept. ‘I ’oped you’d wake up.’ Sobbing as though she had betrayed him.

  He kissed her again, tasting the salt tears. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  Nor did it. He kissed her, touched her, found her, and nothing mattered.

  Towards morning, they slept.

  *

  Cuddy woke first. She was puzzled by the unaccustomed softness of the bed, then she remembered. She opened her eyes. The ceiling, the light, were unfamiliar. There was an unfamiliar warmth beside her. She turned her head. Cash lay on his back, fast asleep, mouth open. She stifled a giggle at the sight of him.

  She lay for a while, enjoying the sensation of being there beside him, then slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. Her clothes were crumpled on the floor where they had fallen. She pulled them on. She couldn’t find her drawers. They must be tangled up somewhere in the bed. No matter. She’d find them later. Naked beneath her skirt, she went out into the pale light of the early morning.

  She breathed in the chilly morning air, touched with the smoke of cooking fires. Birds twittered from the hillside. There was a faint haze of cloud, pink in patches like rose petals, against the pearly dawn sky. She walked down the track to the headland overlooking the water. The ground was cool beneath her bare feet.

  She took a handful of pebbles and tossed them one by one over the edge of the cliff, watching them fall into the branches of the trees beneath her. Beyond them, a skiff sculled slowly across the quiet waters of the cove.

  She tossed the last of the pebbles and sat down on the grass, chin on her knees. Last night … She had never known anyone could be so passionate, yet so gentle. He had been tender, as though he cared. Yet now she felt low where she should have been high. What would he feel when he woke up?

  Would he still think of her with tenderness? Or would he think she
had simply been up to her old tricks again?

  Once a whore …

  A hundred men and now one man. The one man was worth more than all the rest. They meant nothing to her, never had. Last night had been different.

  She knew she should regret what had happened. It might finish everything she had here, everything that was worthwhile. But she regretted nothing. She had wanted it to happen. She had hoped he would waken. Well, he had, and the rest had followed, as she had known it must. No one could take it away from her, not now.

  *

  Cash awoke to an empty house. He sat on the side of the bed and scratched his head, thinking of last night.

  Damn fool thing to have done. It had never entered his head, before; well, perhaps it had, but he had been careful to do nothing about it. What had been different about last night then?

  He had been tired, that was one thing. Glad to be home, glad to be pampered. As for the rest, it had just followed. It would complicate things, of course. They could hardly be the same, now.

  He wasn’t sorry, though. She had been gentle and loving, not at all what he might have expected. It wouldn’t mean much to her, of course. Couldn’t expect that, one among so many.

  He got up, dressed and went out of the house. He had told his father he would go to Parramatta today, give Jack a hand. He had better get on with it.

  He had started down the track to the jetty before he saw Cuddy, sitting a few yards from him, her back to the path. She had not seen him but sat unmoving, looking out at the settlement and the hills beyond the harbour.

  He hesitated, turned back and walked down to the harbour by the other way, along the lane.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Two weeks later, on a warm day of light winds and sunshine, the Bengal Princess‚ a newly-built barque of four hundred and thirty tons, arrived in Port Jackson from Calcutta carrying her Scots owner, Archibald Carter, his formidable wife and nineteen year old daughter Virginia.

  The arrival occasioned considerable interest in the colony. The handful of free settlers who had arrived to date had been people of modest means – small farmers and tradesmen, for the most part – but Carter was a successful businessman. People speculated that his arrival would prove a huge fillip for trade and for the colony generally.

 

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