Admonition

by Chris Throsby

  I’d also decided to use both donkeys. That way I hoped they would have plenty of time to rest before they were again called upon to work. Also, I would need to do all my usual chores and still be ready to open the Inn as normal. I didn’t relish the thought of working after six hours walking as well as a second sleepless night.

  Knowing there was no escape from the night’s work, at about quarter to one I loaded one of the donkeys. Covering her with a blanket, I still knew that if we were stopped by the Excise men, there was no possible way of disguising the load; I could only hope that my chosen route wasn’t one of theirs. Joining the donkeys with an old linking rein I’d found in the stable and disregarding my pounding heart, I mounted the unladen beast and we set off.

  In the dark, as we headed for the stream that I hoped would mark the beginning of an incident-free journey, the only sound to be heard was that forlorn owl still searching for a mate.

  Reaching the stream, we followed the path which ran alongside. With the water reflecting a shade of darkness on one side of us and a hawthorn hedge, wet with the day’s rain, a lighter shade on the other, I felt confident enough of our way to push the donkeys into a trot. Our progress was interrupted only by occasional stray branches which, as if conspiring with the donkeys, dragged their thorns painfully across me, trying unsuccessfully to slow our progress. Otherwise our path was uninterrupted and we encountered no one else on our journey; no one that is until we joined the Gowy.

  We had made good time following a number of deserted streams and I hoped to return to the Boar early enough to get a couple of hours rest before beginning my day. Apart from a couple of sleeping narrow boats, which we slipped quietly past, even though by now a river rather than just a stream, the Gowy also appeared to be deserted. Sam had told me his cousin would leave a lantern burning outside his farmhouse to indicate our destination and I believed from memories of studying the map Sam’s men had left, that when we rounded the bend that lay just ahead, the lantern would be visible. I was becoming more hopeful that we would reach our goal without incident

  But it was then I heard a noise up ahead. I froze and as the disinterested Gowy continued to flow past, the sound continued getting nearer and I recognised the murmur of two men whispering. Although what they said was unclear, it was evident from their tone that they were arguing. It was also clear that in moments they would round the bend and I would be directly in front of them. Unarmed, with the river to my right and an unbroken hedge to my left, there was nothing I could do but stand and face whoever was approaching. So stopping the donkeys I dismounted, just as the men rounded the corner.

  Still arguing, they were both taken completely by surprise when they found their way forward blocked by a stranger leading two donkeys. Only one of them appeared to be armed and although clearly flustered, he hurriedly took the musket from his shoulder and pointed it at me. It occurred to me the weapon was unlikely to be loaded but, particularly at such close range, that was a possibility I was not inclined to test; besides, there were two of them so they could probably overpower me with or without a loaded gun.

  Looking past the man with the gun, I saw that the other had on his shoulder a very full sack. It was obvious these men were poachers and the full sack indicated they’d had a successful night’s work. Regardless of how the night had gone for them, I was sure they had no desire to risk drawing attention to themselves. So, making sure I was as far away from the water’s edge as possible, I pulled the donkeys against the hedge and offered the men a clear path. Cautiously, never taking their eyes from me and with the musket still pointed in my direction, they moved past me. They clearly understood that I also had no desire to draw attention to myself, and whilst they might be curious to know what my wide-girthed jenny might be carrying, they could be sure, travelling at this hour, I wouldn’t wish to explain.

  Remounting, I once again headed towards the bend in the river, but before I reached it, I paused and looked back. I was concerned that the temptation to relieve me of my donkey and her load might overcome the poachers’ caution. I needn’t have worried because when I looked, I could just make out two shapes hurriedly disappearing in the direction from which I had just come.

  Relieved, I pressed on and as I hoped, when I turned the bend I saw set back from the path by about a hundred yards, a light shining out of the darkness; I knew this had to be my destination. Another twenty yards along the path and I came upon a break in the hedgerow where a small track led towards the light and as I could now just make out its outline, the farmhouse.

  Emerging from the track I recognised, standing in the lantern’s light outside the farmhouse, one of the men who had accompanied Sam Baker that first time he’d appeared at the Boar. Thickset and leather-skinned from a lifetime spent outside, Sam’s cousin put a finger to his lips to indicate I should be silent. Taking down the lantern, he led the way to a barn at the rear of the farmhouse. I stayed mounted and, still leading the other donkey, followed him. When we reached the barn, he opened the door and taking the donkey’s rein from me, led her inside. I started to dismount so I could follow, but as I reached the ground, the barn door shut and I heard a bolt being drawn. It was clear I was not invited to join them, so I had little choice if I wanted my animal back, but to wait for them to reappear.

  It began to rain again, so I drew my mount into the shadow and shelter of the barn and waited. After five minutes, the door of the barn re-opened and the rein of a much slimmer donkey was handed back to me. Indicating I should remount, he lit the way back to the track that would return me to the Gowy. Slapping the haunch of my mount to send us on our way, he turned and headed back towards the farmhouse.

  The light from the lantern meant my eyes were no longer fully accustomed to the dark, so at first I made sure we went slowly. As we made our way, it struck me that not only had Sam’s cousin not said one word all the time I had been at his farm but, as Sam hadn’t told me, I didn’t even know his name. Of course, when I thought about it, it was obvious – clearly the less I knew, including the name of Sam’s cousin, the safer we all were. The man had insisted on silence presumably not only because he couldn’t be sure there wasn’t someone lurking in the darkness waiting for one of us to incriminate ourselves, but also because it kept him anonymous.

  By the time we reached the Gowy, my eyes had adjusted fully, so I tried to spur my donkey on. Unused to travelling more than a couple of miles and clearly weary, he was very reluctant to speed up. The jenny, on the other hand, seemed keen to get home and was following very close behind us. So stopping, I switched the saddle and mounted the jenny, and with my new mount glad to be leading and unaffected by my extra weight, she set off towards home, whilst the jack, relieved of his burden, was content to follow.

  The return journey was wholly uneventful and we made good time, and as the rain had stopped by the time we reached the Gowy, all three of us were dry long before we got home. Quickly and quietly I stabled and fed the donkeys and then made my way back inside the Boar. As I walked back in, I could see that the sky was just beginning to lighten, and I knew dawn was still about half an hour away. That meant I had about two hours before I would be expected to be seen up and about; in other words, two hours rest and I wouldn’t see my bed again for another sixteen. Still the main thing was that I’d delivered the salt and returned without incident and hopefully Sam Baker wouldn’t pay me another visit for a while.

  As I shut the door, I was sure I heard a noise, so I paused and straining my ears waited for another sound. But hearing nothing more and telling myself it was probably just a badger or some other nocturnal animal on its way home, I turned and headed for bed.

  Looking back, I have to admit that first delivery went without a hitch. It’s just that for a full week from the moment two of Sam’s men had entered the bar, I expected Excise men to come and arrest me.

  I was sweeping when she walked through the door. She didn’t say anything, just took the broom from me and finished the work I’d started. I stood
and watched as she methodically swept every inch of the bar floor. When she’d finished, she turned to me and asked,

  “Is that all right? I will get better with practice, and quicker.”

  I heard the nervousness in her voice, but glancing around, I saw that every corner was clean and she’d demolished the lifelong homes of several spiders. I laughed and said,

  “Admonition, I’ve lived here since I was fourteen years old and I swear I’ve never seen this floor so clean. If you do the rest of the bar as well as you’ve done that floor, my locals will think they’ve come to the wrong pub.”

  She giggled and said,

  “So does that mean you still want me to come back tomorrow?”

  I looked straight at her. I wanted her to be certain I was serious and why.

  “Adie, I’ve already offered you work and I did it so you wouldn’t be so beholden to Tom. So yes, I definitely want you to come back tomorrow. You’ll be safe here.”

  She smiled.

  “When she asked me why I wanted to work for you, that’s what I told Mrs Rider; I knew I’d be safe with you. I think that’s why she agreed.”

  “So you don’t feel safe at the Rider’s?” I asked.

  Her face flushed and turning away, she said,

  “I never said that. The Rider’s took me and Will in when we were left alone and homeless, and Mrs Rider’s always been like a mum to me.”

  “Until now?”

  I spoke without thinking. The truth was I didn’t really know anything about Adie’s relationship with the Rider’s, but what I did know was that there had to be a reason she ran from Tom and an explanation for the coldness towards her from Elizabeth that didn’t fit Adie’s description of her.

  She turned back to me and with eyes lowered, said quietly,

  “Until now.”

  But then she straightened, looked me in the eye and declared,

  “Right. No point me standing here talking, why don’t you show me where you keep all the things you use for cleaning and then show me anything else you want me to do.”

  She barely knew me, so it was no surprise she didn’t want to talk about her relationships with Tom and Elizabeth, but I was pleased she felt she’d be safer with me.

  So that’s how we left things. I showed Adie what I wanted her to do: clean the bar, wash up any mugs, jugs and tankers still dirty from the night before and clear up any mess left outside. It was barely two hour’s work but over the next six months, despite our age difference, we talked a fair bit and she usually stayed the whole morning and that’s the way things might have remained if it wasn’t for Sam Baker.

  Although he still only required me to take salt loads to his cousin in Foulk Stapleford, now it was three times a week with double the load. I still followed the same streams and river because, despite the risk not changing my route brought, it still seemed the safest and quietest. But I couldn’t ask either of the donkeys to carry the whole load, so I split it between them and walked alongside. Now, not only was I losing most of a night’s sleep three times a week, but also having to complete the outward journey on foot. In addition, the nights were getting shorter and even though familiarity with the route meant I could travel faster, I knew it wouldn’t be long before part of my journey would be in daylight. Of course, that would be on my way home, by which time I wouldn’t be carrying anything I shouldn’t, and I could handle any awkward questions, but I just didn’t want the Excise getting suspicious.

  But the worst problem I had was exhaustion and it was becoming increasingly difficult for me to appear normal when Adie made her appearance each morning. So I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised when one morning the inevitable happened. Struggling in from Foulk Stapleford at about six, I was too tired to care that it was already broad daylight, and so after stabling the donkeys, I’d stumbled into the inn and made straight for my bed. With my boots still on, I’d fallen asleep immediately.

  The next thing I knew, my shoulder was being gently shaken. Opening my eyes, I was surprised to see Adie.

  “I’m sorry Jabez, the front door was wide open when I arrived so I came in. I called for you, but when you didn’t answer, I was worried, ’cos I thought you might have had a break-in. I called for you all through the pub and I don’t understand why I didn’t wake you; it’s almost ten o’clock you know.”

  I tried to get up, but sat back on the bed; the sudden movement had made me light-headed. She told me,

  “You look really ill. Lie down again and I’ll go and find you some breakfast.”

  I was too tired to argue and just laid back down. I think I was asleep again before Adie left the room and I only resurfaced when I heard her talking urgently to me.

  “It’s one o’clock now Jabez, I’ve got to go. Mum will be wondering what’s happened to me.”

  The shock of hearing the time brought me to full consciousness. Sitting up, I said,

  “Of course, you must go. I’ll be fine now. But thank you for staying so long.”

  I struggled to my feet and even though I still felt drowsy, I did feel much better.

  Adie looked at me critically,

  “Alright, but you’ve been looking very tired for a few weeks now, and I’ve been thinking, perhaps tomorrow we should talk about how I might be able to help you a bit more.”

  I had time before having to give a reason why that couldn’t be, so I just agreed we should talk in the morning.

  Satisfied, she said,

  “Alright then, as long as you’re feeling better, I’ll be on my way.”

  With that she left, but as she descended the stairs, I heard her call out,

  “I’ve left you some food on the bar and drawn you some water from the well. I hope that’s alright.”

  I’m sure the sound of my grateful reply, still dampened by sleep, went unheard, but moments later I heard the door slam. Aware that if I laid down, I might fall asleep again and knowing there was much to do before I opened for business, I got up and headed downstairs.

  Of course there wasn’t much to do at all. Adie hadn’t been idle whilst I was asleep and all that was left for me to do was to change the barrel, which had run out late the night before, and replenish the gin which was running low. So before heading for the cellar, I took the jug of water that Adie had left into the back kitchen, filled a bowl and washed my face. Refreshed, I took the jug back into the bar and poured the remaining water into a pint pot, then settled down at the bar and started on the food she’d left.

  Whilst I ate, I thought about her offer. Clearly, Sam Baker wasn’t going to stop expecting me to deliver his salt for him, and I had to admit the additional income had made all the difference. But I also knew I couldn’t go on in the same way, driving me and the donkeys so hard.

  So might Adie provide the solution, after all? I certainly felt a whole lot better after a few extra hours sleep and it was also clear that she would have to know why I was so tired in the morning, even if I didn’t take up her offer. I believed I could trust her and that telling her about my night time excursions wouldn’t be a problem. But I also knew it wouldn’t be right to let her get involved.

  Anyway, I didn’t have time to dwell on the subject. I had a barrel to get ready for opening time. One thing I couldn’t get off my mind though, I was sure Adie had said she’d found the door to the pub wide open and I was sure I’d shut it when I came in; I can’t have been that tired, could I?

  Next morning, I was sat in the bar when she walked in.

  “Morning Jabez, you’re looking a lot better today. The extra sleep must have done you good.”

  Smiling, she found the broom and started to sweep the bar. Admiring her industry, I recalled Tom’s lies and in a moment made a decision.

  “Adie, put that broom down and come and sit here with me, will you?” I pulled a chair out for her. “I need to talk to you.”

  She stopped sweeping and turned and looked at me.

  “Is it about yesterday?”

  She looked anxiou
s, so I tried to look encouraging as I said,

  “Yes, in part.”

  I’d clearly failed because she said,

  “I knew it was. I should have just shut the door and left, shouldn’t I? I’m sorry Jabez. Honestly, I didn’t tell anyone anything about what happened. Mr Rider was at work when I got back home and I just told Mum you asked me to do a bit extra.”

  She surprised me. I’d worked out what I wanted to say to her but now I couldn’t do that without first reassuring her about the previous day’s events.

  “Adie, you couldn’t be more wrong. If you had just shut the door and gone away then who knows when I would have woken and in what state the bar would have been come opening time. No, come and sit down. I just want to explain why I’ve been so tired recently and after I’ve told you then you can decide whether you’re still willing to work a little bit more for me. In fact, after I tell you, I’ll understand if you say you don’t want to work for me at all.”

  She looked at me curiously, but then without another word put down the broom and came and sat in the chair I’d offered. Before I could begin, she said,

  “You don’t have to tell me anything, you know. Your business is your own.”

  I couldn’t tell what she was thinking, so I pressed on.

  “It’s only fair that I explain to you exactly what I do. If you’re to help me any more than you already do, you’re bound to see things and then I’m going to have to ask you to keep secrets.”