I could see that she meant what she said, so I relaxed.
“Alright then,” I said, “but look, it’s getting very late, so let’s call it a night. We can clear up the bar in the morning.”
There was no argument from Adie and after she’d helped me snuff those candles which were still burning, we made our weary way to bed. I had little trouble falling asleep, but before I did, still thinking about how Adie had spoken to Sam, I smiled and said to myself,
“Well Jabez, I think you underestimated that girl and whatever comes of it, she definitely gave Sam plenty of food for thought.”
As I expected, another delivery arrived the next night, but now Adie insisted she should assist me. For some time I had ensured I kept a good supply of straw, and with her help I was able to hide the salt in a way that only a thorough search would expose. So in the evening, while I attended bar, she said she was retiring early and went to load the donkeys.
Although I objected, reminding her she shouldn’t get involved, I must admit I was glad not to feel so alone, convincing myself that her involvement could never be proved. That night, and those that followed over the next few months, went as smoothly as that first one. Also, because the donkeys were already loaded, I was able to leave promptly and return earlier. It was not the smuggling, at least not at first, that disrupted our arrangements.
Congratulating myself on another straightforward trip, completed in good time despite earlier rain making parts of the route slippery underfoot, it was only when I returned that I realised something wasn’t right. Clearly distressed, Adie was standing in the doorway to the Boar talking to someone inside the pub. Although, I knew they were tired, I kicked the donkeys into a fast trot, the nearest thing they had to a gallop, and called out to Adie. But as I got closer, I realised she was shouting at the person in the pub and either didn’t hear me or was too occupied.
I reached the door and dismounted as Adie stepped back from the doorway and Tom Rider appeared. Wielding what I correctly assumed was my billyclub and clearly blind drunk, he swung at Adie. She dodged out of the way quite easily and his momentum almost made him fall, but regaining his balance and focus with equal difficulty, his vision fell on me.
“So Jabez, where have you been on this fine morning?”
I was concentrating too closely on the billyclub he was swinging to point out the sky was overcast and it had just started raining again. Instead I said,
“I’ve been exercising these beasts, Tom. It’s the only time I can do it.”
He was struggling to hold focus and clearly wasn’t listening to what I was saying and moving in my direction, he started swinging the billyclub with more purpose. Seeing how drunk he was, I stood my ground knowing I could easily evade the bat when he attacked me, which he surely would. As he approached, he started cursing me; his language was slurred, but I could get the gist and it seemed Elizabeth had triggered his visit. He took a swig from a bottle he held and said,
“Liz says it’s my fault. She says if it wasn’t for me, Adie would still be with us an’ I can’t make her see it’s ‘cos of you. I don’t know what it is but tha’ girl’s…” He waved the club in a wide arc, but I assumed it was supposed to have pointed at Adie.
“She’s left a perfectly good home to come and live in sin with you. Why won’t Lizzie unnerstand that?”
All this time, like a rabid dog, Tom had been meandering slowly towards me. But now he broke into a run to cover the short distance between us. Instinctively, I stepped backward, caught my heel on a tree root and fell into the mud. Looking up, I saw Tom above me. His eyes had cleared and for a moment he was sober. As there was nothing else I could do, I shut my eyes, raised my arm to protect my face and waited for the impact of the billyclub already poised to strike.
But the blow never came. Instead, a familiar voice said,
“I don’t think you want to do that, do you Tom?”
Opening my eyes, I was in time to see Sam Baker wrench the billyclub from Tom’s grasp. But Tom held on just too long and losing his balance, in a moment went from standing over me to sprawling in the mud beside me. Bemused, I struggled to my feet and looked to Adie, who was still standing by the door.
“He hasn’t hurt you, has he Adie?” I called.
“No, I’m fine,” she said, although she couldn’t prevent her voice from betraying a slight quiver, “but I can’t say the same for the bar.”
That Adie was unhurt was important and anything broken in the pub was replaceable. Relieved, I think my mind cleared for the first time since I’d returned, so turning to Sam who still stood over Tom, I said,
“I think you can let him up now. It doesn’t look like he’s going to cause any more trouble.”
Sam looked down. It was almost as if he’d forgotten Tom was there, and slowly stepped back. I was surprised because Tom failed to move, but moments later, all became clear when he began snoring loudly. Sam laughed and said,
“You know Jabez, I think you might be right.”
Tom was no longer my main concern. I wanted to know why Sam was outside my pub so early in the morning.
“I’m grateful you were here Sam, but what I don’t understand is why you were here so early.”
“Oh, that’s easy. I had reports that this one,” he toe-poked Tom, raising a snort which only interrupted the rhythm of his snores momentarily, "had been seen hanging around a few times, so I decided to take a look for myself. When I got here, I could hear a lot of noise coming from inside the pub, but I wasn’t sure what was going on; it might have been the Excise Supervisor and his men. It was only when Admonition appeared and I could hear a drunk voice that I knew something else was happening.
Now, I think we should throw him onto one of your donkeys and then, if she’s in agreement, me and Admonition should take him home. She can tell his wife what’s been going on and I can tell her what will happen to him if he causes any more trouble."
With that, he got hold of Tom’s ankles and started dragging him towards the donkeys. I hurried after him, took hold of Tom’s shoulders and between us we carried him to the Jenny and lay him across her. Sam called Adie,
“Let’s go then girl. I want to get this man home before he wakes up.”
Adie didn’t move. She was clearly reluctant to go, so I said,
“Come on, Adie.” I urged, “You’ve been hoping to see Elizabeth since you moved here. Now’s your chance.”
She looked at me and said,
“That’s true, I do, but not like this.”
Leaving Sam securing Tom to the donkey, I walked across to Adie. I’d never held her before but now I held her tight and said,
“You know you’re going to have to tell her the truth at some time, don’t you?”
She said nothing, so I added,
“And you know there’s never going to be a good time, don’t you?”
Pulling away from me, she said,
“But she may never talk to me again.”
She buried her head in my chest and although I knew she was crying, I pulled her gently away from me again and, putting my arm round her shoulder, walked her to Sam’s side. Before letting her go, I said,
“Remember, Adie, if you don’t explain how things have been with Tom, he’ll make sure you never speak to Elizabeth again.”
Leaving her with Sam, I asked him to make sure she stayed safe. He gave me a slight nod, enough to let me know he would, and began to lead the donkey towards the road which would take them to the village. With Adie following reluctantly, I stood and watched them go and then, after leading the remaining donkey to the orchard, thinking I’d stable and feed them both when Adie returned, I entered the pub to survey the damage.
Things were not as bad as I feared; in fact it was plain to see that damage followed a trail caused by a chase with the billyclub, rather than from a concerted effort to cause destruction. So there were chairs flung aside from a path across the bar leading from the door, odd tables overturned that had smashed some of
the pots and jugs left on them over night, and of course the dregs they contained were now soaking into the floor. But tables and chairs outside Tom’s path were unscathed and the bar and all its contents were completely untouched; Adie had obviously had the good sense not to get trapped behind there.
But as I went, following the trail of things damaged or smashed by the swinging billyclub, my mind turned to how it must have been for Adie; clearly she had kept her wits about her, but she must have been terrified. The further I went, clearing the mess Tom had created, the more a picture of what had happened formed in my imagination. The clearer, more detailed the picture and more vivid the image of Tom chasing an increasingly desperate Adie became, the greater the anger in me grew. Finally, to nobody in particular, I shouted out loud,
“What makes him think he owns her?”
I decided there was only one way to resolve the situation and, suddenly certain, I waited impatiently for Adie’s return.
But impatience didn’t hasten her return and over two hours later, having cleared up the mess, restocked the bar and stabled the other donkey, I was reduced to pacing the ground outside the front door when Adie finally returned. She was leading the jenny and it cross my mind briefly to ask her why she wasn’t riding, but only briefly, because from still some distance, I could see she was very upset. Running quickly to her and after taking the donkey’s tether, for the second time that day, I pulled her close. It clearly wasn’t the time to talk. The details of her visit could wait. For now, I just took her gently towards the pub, quickly tethered the donkey and led her inside.
Seating her at the nearest table, I brought her a small gin from the bar. She looked at it, then picked it up and after hesitating for a moment, emptied the tankard in one go. The time she took to swallow it, seemed more than the time it took to return, and was now accompanied by a coughing fit. The gin, having made a rapid reappearance from the back of her throat, completed its escape not by heading back to the tankard it came from but by making straight for my face. Adie looked at me and despite the distress her visit had caused her and the obvious gin-created discomfort she was suffering, when there was room, her coughing was interrupted by laughter. Although her laughter was at my expense, I was glad to hear it and after the initial shock of the juniper scented shower had passed, I found myself laughing with her.
When she recovered, she said,
“I’m sorry Jabez, I didn’t mean to spit in your face, but I’ve never tasted gin before – and it’s horrible. But you do look funny.”
With that, she started laughing again, but this time I resisted joining in and instead went out the back to find a cloth to dry myself. I washed most of the gin from my face and having used the cloth to dry, returned to the bar and sat down again. I thought the time might finally be right, so I asked her,
“Do you think you’re ready to tell me what happened this morning?”
She was ready she said, but surprised me when she began because it was Sam not Elizabeth or Tom she talked about first.
"He’s not all bad, you know. Sam I mean. I didn’t really want to go with him and it’s only ’cos of what you said that I did. I was already about twenty yards behind him when I set off and because I was walking really slowly, it must have been about fifty when he turned the corner. I didn’t go any faster ’cos I thought he’d lose patience, speed up and go on without me and I thought then I’d be able to come back to the pub. But when I turned the corner, he was waiting for me. At first, he just looked at me thoughtfully. He seemed to be considering what he should do next. But then he made his mind up and with it apparently mine for me as well because when he spoke, his voice was firm and I remember he said,
‘I don’t know what’s been going on between you and Tom and to be honest, I don’t really care, but I do know that whatever it is, I don’t want it interfering with my business; his wife’s name’s Elizabeth, isn’t it?’
I said that it was and he told me,
‘Well, Tom needs to know that he’s not welcome at the Boar anymore, and the best way for that to happen is for you to talk to her; explain what it is between you and him.’
I suppose I must have looked unsure ’cos he smiled at me and said,
‘Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she gives him the message.’
And then his smile disappeared as he added,
‘If he doesn’t believe her, I’ll make sure she knows what will happen to him. It’ll be up to her to convince him.’
He looked me straight in the eye. I’ll never forget it because when he looks at you like that, his gaze pierces right through you, and then he said,
‘You have my word. You’ll come to no harm while I’m around. In future, I’ll make sure someone’s watching the Boar every time Jabez is on a run.’
With that, he began leading the donkey towards the village. I was still unsure I was doing the right thing, but I followed him because there was something reassuring, something certain, about the way he talked."
I wanted her to tell me what happened when they saw Elizabeth. It was clear from the way she was on her return; things had not gone as she hoped. But I could also see that she wanted to tell it her way and that pushing her wouldn’t help. What I had to say to her could wait a little longer, so I was patient and just let her continue at her own speed.
“I couldn’t believe my ears because as we walked, he started to tell me about his life.”
That was a surprise to me as well. As far as I knew, Sam was a closed book, so this would be interesting. I let go of her hand and waited for her to carry on. But then she got up and said,
“Give me a minute, I must get some water. That gin and all this talking have given me a dry throat.”
I sat back and waited for her. Returning from the kitchen, sipping her water as she came, she sat down again and said,
“Now, where was I?”
I reminded her she was about to tell me what Sam had told her of his life.
"Oh yes, that’s right.
Well anyway, he said that like me, he’d lost most of his family when he was very young. In fact he’d been little more than a babe. He was born in Macclesfield and his family had been wiped out by typhus. I don’t know if I ever told you, but I had an aunt from Macclesfield who died before I was born, and Will told me she’d died of typhus as well."
She hadn’t, so I shook my head.
“Anyway, I didn’t tell him about that, I didn’t want to interrupt him.”
She looked at me curiously because I couldn’t help smiling.
"He told me he’d had one surviving sister who was married and lived nearby in Walker Barn. She was visiting the day his mother spotted the first signs of typhus in one of his brothers. She knew the family would be quarantined when the authorities found out, and she also knew that would probably be a death sentence on them all. So she bundled Sam up and gave him to his sister, telling her to keep him hidden and not to return until it was safe to do so. Of course, by the time Macclesfield was clear, there was no one left for his sister to take him back to. But he said things hadn’t been so bad for him because his sister had brought him up as her own child. He made me laugh ‘cos he said, ’You might say that when she took me from my mother, I had my introduction to smuggling.’
"I tell you Jabez, until just now, that was the only time today that I’ve laughed. But then, without thinking, I asked him how he got involved with salt smuggling in the first place.
"He began to answer me, but then he stopped and I nearly ran into the back of him. I thought I’d gone too far, but when he turned to me, his face wasn’t telling me anything. He wasn’t smiling but there again, he didn’t look angry either and when he spoke, his voice was even. He said, ‘Donkeys don’t tell what they overhear, but their riders might.’
"He looked meaningfully at the body slumped on the donkey. Looking the same way, I noticed that Tom’s eyelids were fluttering. Listening to Sam’s story, I’d completely forgotten Tom was there and now I didn’t know whether
he was awake or just dreaming. Everyone knows what Sam and his gang do, but if the Excise had a witness who’d actually heard him discussing it, I dread to think what might happen. Anyway, Sam turned and started leading the donkey again as if nothing had happened, but now, instead of the leisurely pace that we had been walking, he went so quickly that the donkey, who’d been enjoying the stroll, brayed her protest as she was now asked to go at a steady trot.
"I didn’t care about her complaints, but what did worry me were the moans now coming from her passenger. The noise from the donkey and the rougher ride had woken Tom fully and he was struggling unsuccessfully to sit up and he was complaining!
“I don’t think he’d realised yet that he was actually tied to the donkey, but as he struggled, he kept shouting at Sam to let him down and complaining that the donkey was making his head bang.”
Adie couldn’t resist smiling when she added,
"Sam didn’t slow for a moment. Instead, he just told Tom to stop moaning and that it was his hangover, not the donkey that was making his head hurt. But Tom didn’t stop moaning until Sam told him we’d be home soon and then if he didn’t shut up, we could all discuss his morning’s work with his wife.
“I didn’t need reminding why we were taking him home, but I’m glad I hadn’t the time to think about it. Whether it was the donkey’s movement or the reminder that we were about to meet Mum, I don’t know, but Tom’s colour, which was already pallid, turned grey and leaning over, he was very sick. He started protesting again, but I think he must have been feeling really unwell because, this time when Sam told him to shut up like he really meant it, Tom went quiet and just laid with his head on the donkey’s neck. From there until we arrived in the village, where I pointed out the gennel and then our house, all we heard from Tom was an occasional moan.”
Mum wasn’t in when we arrived, but as the door was unbolted, Sam guided Tom into the house where he made straight for the bed and was soon snoring again. There was nothing for me and Sam to do but wait for Mum’s return.
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