Just Jack

by Adele Broadbent

  Peering into the cabinet I spotted what I needed. A hip flask, probably silver, but it was still better than taking the crystal. Besides, it was much smaller and hopefully wouldn’t be missed before I could sneak it back in again.

  Ever so slowly — every sound I made was magnified in the quiet — I poured the clear liquid into the narrow neck of the flask. My hands shaking, I spilt some in the tray. I fished out my handkerchief from my pocket and quickly mopped it up.

  Placing the lid back on the decanter, I checked its contents. It was half-full. I slid it to the back of the tray and pushed the others in front of it. With one last check, I stowed the flask in my shirt and tiptoed back to the door. Opening it just a crack, I saw the hallway was empty. I crept out into the hall, closed the office door and slunk back down to the dining room.

  Mrs O’Brien’s laugh rang out from the kitchen. She must be talking to Isobel — I’d never get out that way. I swallowed hard. What would Isobel think? I pushed the thought away and looked back down the hallway. The front door was my only escape. I crept back past several closed doors and around a bend in the hall.

  At the sight of the front door, I breathed a sigh of relief. Through that and back to my room and I’d done it. Any thoughts of returning the flask were far from my mind as I stepped out onto the veranda, pulling the door shut behind me. ‘Phew!’ I whispered.

  ‘Meow!’

  Behind me, the ginger cat lay in Isobel’s lap, its green eyes wide, peering up at me. Isobel was sound asleep. So who was in the kitchen with Mrs O’Brien? Had Laddie returned?

  Isobel stirred, her eyelids flickering. I bolted — down the front steps, around the side of the house, and back to the stables. Only when I stood puffing in my room did I realize I was still in my socks.

  A bit later I fetched my boots easily enough and saw a tradesman leaving. That explained who Mrs O’Brien had been chatting to. The rest of the day went by as normal, except for my constant thoughts of the flask hidden under my bed.

  That night at bedtime, I held it, unsure of how much to drink. I took a sniff. ‘Here goes,’ I whispered to my empty room. When the gin hit my tongue, I spat it out, wiping my sleeve across my mouth. It tasted even worse than it smelt. But Frank had sworn by it. If it would stop me growing, it had to be worth it.

  I put the flask to my lips and tipped it. It burned my throat and my eyes watered as I coughed, spluttering for air. That’s enough for tonight, I thought, screwing the lid back on tightly.

  Each night for a week, I took a swig from the flask. Laddie hadn’t mentioned it was missing, so as the days passed I worried less about returning it. I wasn’t sure if it was working, but I knew my boots were getting tighter.

  Maybe I wasn’t drinking enough? That night I decided to try drinking more.

  All I remembered was the feeling of flying and then being horribly sick. Faces whirled around my head and I felt sure I was going to die.

  Slowly I opened my eyes. Sunlight flooded through my bedroom window, the brightness searing through my pounding head like a hot poker. I groaned, and when I tried to lift my head from the pillow a terrible smell filled my nostrils, and an awful taste lined my mouth. I winced as I swallowed, my throat raw and dry.

  What had happened? What hit me? Memories of the night before trickled into my thumping brain. The gin.

  How much had I drunk? I turned my head. Clothes were everywhere and one boot lay alone by the door. My stomach rolled when I realized the smell came from my vomit-covered blankets.

  What time was it? I should be at the stables. But every movement felt like a horse had kicked me. Just like Isobel’s mother. I groaned again, closing my eyes.

  Isobel. Did she see me last night? What had I done? Laddie’s angry face flashed before me.

  ‘Aw, no!’ I moaned, as I remembered. Just as I struggled up onto one elbow, my bedroom door slid open.

  ‘So you’re awake, then.’ Laddie filled the doorway.

  Before I could say a word, he stepped into the room. ‘Get up. Clean yourself up, then this room,’ he ordered. ‘I will be back in half an hour.’ He slammed the door behind him, sending shock waves through my head.

  I dragged my legs out of my soiled blankets and slowly sat up. After a minute my head stopped swimming and I tried to stand. Too fast. Gagging, my stomach raced up to meet my throat.

  Stumbling down the hallway, I held my hand tight over my mouth, reaching the toilet just in time.

  A shower helped me feel a little better. At least I could clean the muck from my hair and wash the smell from my body. My room wasn’t so easy. My head pounded every time I bent to pick up clothes. I held them at arm’s length, then wrapped them up in my blankets. When I’d dropped the smelly bundle in the washing basket, I wondered how I would ever face Mrs O’Brien again.

  Soon Laddie marched back into my room. ‘I’m glad you had the sense to open your window and door.’ He glowered. ‘It smells worse than a winter stable left for a week.’

  I nodded at the floor, unable to face him. ‘Before you pack your bags, you can explain what you were playing at last night.’

  ‘Pack my bags? I squeaked, finally looking up at him.

  ‘I will not tolerate drunkenness or stealing,’ Laddie roared. I winced as his words hammered through my head. ‘How do you explain this?’ He pulled the silver hip flask from his jacket pocket.

  I sank back down on my bare mattress and hid my face in my hands.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘It was the only way,’ I mumbled.

  ‘What?’

  Taking a deep breath, I looked up again. ‘It was the only way to stop growing.’

  ‘What are you …?’ Laddie fell silent. The anger on his face changed to a look of disbelief. ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘Old Frank down at the billiard saloon.’ I struggled to my feet. ‘When he saw I’d grown over Christmas, he told me drinking gin would stop it.’

  His look of pity gave me the courage to continue: ‘You said you like your jockeys as small as possible, and I didn’t want to leave. It’s a grand place to work, and it would mean leaving the horses and Baldy and …’ Isobel’s face swam before me.

  Laddie held up his hand, silencing me. ‘This isn’t the first time Frank’s given out bad advice.’

  ‘Please can I stay?’ I said, my eyes filling with tears.

  ‘You stole from me, Jack. You sneaked into my office to steal alcohol and took the hip flask as well.’ He shook his head. ‘Even if I could forgive that, which I can’t,’ he added, ‘you’re right. I need my jockeys small. You’re a hard worker and good with my horses, but if you grow too heavy or tall, there is no place for you here.’

  His words hit like hooves. A new pain replaced the thudding in my head and the churning of my stomach.

  No place for you here echoed in my ears as I watched him turn and leave. Staring at Laddie’s back, my mind felt numb.

  He stopped in the doorway and turned as if to speak again. Instead, he held his hand up and tilted his head, listening.

  The horses whinnied from their yards, upset about something. Laddie frowned, then looked puzzled. I heard it, too. A distant rumble. It grew closer. Louder. The horses squealed in terror at the rising roar.

  ‘What’s—’

  My feet were ripped from under me, and I flew backwards onto the bed. It leapt about like a horse with a thorn under its saddle, then threw me to the floor.

  ‘Earthquake!’ yelled Laddie. He reached out. ‘Quick, Jack!’

  No matter how hard I tried to stand, the leaping floor wouldn’t let me. Even crawling was impossible, my arms buckling awkwardly beneath me. The wooden floorboards splintered upwards, then lay flat again as the ground buckled. The roof groaned and creaked as it was screwed in opposite directions. Giant cracks snaked up through the plaster on the walls, revealing red bricks underneath. Dust filled the room as plaster smashed to the writhing floor.

  As suddenly as it had begun, the roaring stopped. I looked up to see th
e roof leaning in on me, lower at one end. Shafts of light filtered through gaps in the brickwork onto the fine layer of dust floating in the air.

  ‘Hurry, Jack!’ Laddie urged again. He stood braced in the doorway, his arm stretched out towards me. I scrambled to my feet, stumbling over slabs of shattered plaster to reach for Laddie’s hand.

  The floor dropped out from under me. BANG! BANG! Bricks exploded outwards and the window shattered, showering glass slivers over my head and shoulders. As I threw my hands over my head, the entire wall disappeared. I watched the yard outside swaying back and forth. The horses!

  BANG! This time from above. Everything went black.

  Chapter 18

  All was still. Was I dead? No, I could taste the dust lining my mouth, and my eyes stung. When I went to wipe them, I couldn’t move my arm. Or the other. My breath, short and sharp, was the only sound in the darkness.

  ‘Laddie!’ It came out in a whisper. I swallowed, trying to clear the dust caking my throat, and was overcome with coughing.

  ‘Laddie!’ I called again, louder this time. Nothing. Was he all right? Was he …? Pushing the thought from my mind, I tried moving my legs.

  There was about four inches’ space on either side before they touched something hard. I stretched out my toes. Something sharp.

  Squeezing my right arm slowly up and across the narrow space above my chest, I managed to wipe the grit from my eyes. They still stung and watered badly, but gradually I grew used to the dim light.

  I recognized the steel plates that I had stared up at every night from my bed — only inches from my face. The roof had collapsed.

  ‘Laddie!’

  Nothing.

  I pushed against the wooden beam above me. It didn’t budge. Squeezing my left arm out was easier than the right, and I tried again. Pushing was easier with both arms, but it made no difference to the beam.

  I squirmed around to look behind my head. Light trickled through a gap in the beams and roofing iron. Twisting my body inch by inch, I turned onto my stomach then pulled my way towards the gap through a narrow corridor in the rubble. It seemed to take forever.

  Halfway there, something caught on my trousers. I pulled away, desperate to get out in case another quake hit. ‘Aargh!’ Pain sliced through my thigh. When it finally dulled to a throb to match that in my head, I moved forward again until there was only half a yard to go. ‘Help!’ No reply. When I finally broke free, I sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. Crawling clear, I climbed to my feet.

  Where my room had once stood was a tangled mess of bricks, bent roofing-iron, slabs of plaster and wooden beams. Only one hallway wall remained standing. The old bath, half-filled with bricks, squatted in the open, one tap bent at an odd angle.

  ‘Laddie!’ I called. Watching where I placed my bare feet, I began to search the debris. ‘Laddie, where are you?’

  A patch of brown cloth was poking out from under splintered wood. Laddie’s jacket! Board by board, I cleared around the patch until his body came into view. I worked upwards, lifting a slab of plaster to reveal Laddie’s dusty white face. His eyes were closed and a deep gash ran down his cheek.

  I knelt next to him. ‘Laddie.’ He didn’t move. ‘Laddie, wake up. Please wake up.’ I saw his head move. ‘Laddie. It’s Jack. Wake up!’

  With a groan he opened his eyes and squinted up at me. After a few moments he moaned, ‘Isobel. Where’s Isobel?’

  Isobel! I glanced over at the house, still standing, a few windows broken. ‘She’ll be in the house with Mrs O’Brien. She’ll be fine,’ I said, hoping I was right. I bent to remove more boards. ‘I’ve got to get you out.’

  His face screwed up in pain. ‘I can’t move, Jack.’

  Treading carefully around Laddie’s body, I wished I had my boots. Bent nails stuck out everywhere. When I’d cleared away all that I could, I discovered why Laddie was stuck. A thick beam of wood lay across his chest. Luckily, an even larger beam lying alongside him had taken most of its weight.

  I clambered down to the end of the beam and tried to lift it. It wouldn’t budge. A lever, I thought. I need something to lever it off.

  The first two pieces of wood I tried snapped when I leaned my weight on them. I tried another. ‘Please let this work, please let this work,’ I mumbled to myself. Only when my feet had left the ground, with my whole body across the wood, did it move, but barely. ‘Aargh!’ cried Laddie.

  I scrambled back over to him. ‘I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?’

  ‘Isobel. Where’s Isobel?’ He looked awful. The bloodied cut in his cheek was scarlet against his powder-white face. I stood up, looking around. Where was everybody? Maybe Mrs O’Brien would know what to do.

  I made my way across the rubble. When I got to the house, the back door was jammed shut. I kicked at the door, sending jolts through my injured leg. It finally flew open, but I didn’t make it far inside. The floor was covered in smashed preserves, split sacks of flour, and broken jam jars. Giant shards of glass stopped me going any further. ‘Isobel!’ I called. ‘Mrs O’Brien!’ Another tremor was my only answer, the house swaying like a ship at sea.

  Diving outside again, I crawled away until the tremor stopped. Where were they? I limped back to where Laddie lay, my stomach sinking as I realized I was alone. Again, I tried to lever the beam off. Snap!

  A horse squealed in terror as another tremor hit. I fell to my knees and waited for it to stop. Of course! One of the horses could help. I knelt down next to Laddie. ‘I’m going to get Copper. She’ll help me get this beam off.’

  This time he gave me a crooked smile. ‘Good thinking, lad.’ He took a few short, sharp breaths. ‘Things feel a little better now.’

  I tried to smile back. He didn’t look better. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’ As I stood up, Laddie groaned. ‘I’ll be back soon,’ I repeated.

  The groan came again, louder this time. It wasn’t coming from Laddie. A hand emerged from the pile of bricks that was once the wall of my bedroom. ‘Help me.’

  ‘Kenny!’

  ‘Help me,’ Kenny groaned. I glanced from him to Laddie.

  ‘Go, Jack,’ urged Laddie. ‘He can help you find Isobel.’ I scuttled over to Kenny, relieved to be told what to do.

  Red bricks, torn apart from each other, were scattered all over his body. ‘Hang on, Kenny. I’ll shift some of these bricks.’ Tears ran through the dust on his face. ‘Are you all right?’ I asked, as I threw bricks to one side.

  ‘I think so,’ he said, struggling to a sitting position. ‘My head hurts.’

  ‘No wonder,’ I said. ‘The wall fell on you.’

  He dragged himself free and staggered to his feet. Except for a cut to his chin, he looked OK. Another tremor hit. We crouched over the bricks, waiting for it to stop. When the ground was still, Kenny slowly stood and looked around properly for the first time.

  His mouth dropped open as he turned, taking in the damage around us.

  ‘Jack.’ Kenny whirled around at the sound of our boss’s voice.

  ‘It’s Laddie,’ I said. ‘We’ve got to help him.’ I clambered back over the sheets of tin to find him looking even worse. ‘The roof beam is pinning him down. Hurry, Kenny, we have to get it off him.’

  Kenny froze. ‘Not again,’ he said, staring over at Laddie. He looked up at me and shook his head. ‘It’s not my fault. It wasn’t me,’ he jabbered. ‘It’s not my fault!’

  ‘What are you talking about, Kenny? It was an earthquake. Of course it’s not your fault. Come on.’

  He staggered backwards, tripping on bricks. ‘No, no, NO!’

  ‘Kenny!’

  He stopped, and for a moment I thought he’d come to his senses. He gazed around again at the collapsed sleeping quarters, the broken windows in the house, the paths cracked and buckled, until his gaze came back to Laddie. ‘Not again,’ he whispered.

  Again? What did he mean? He backed away.

  The accident! The one he was blamed for. Is that what he meant? Is that what
he was frightened of? He spun away, and stumbled across the bricks.

  ‘Kenny! Come back!’ He ran down the drive and was gone.

  A tiny part of me hoped he was going for help. But deep down I knew that wasn’t true. Whatever had happened at that building accident had happened all over again for Kenny. He wasn’t coming back. Laddie closed his eyes.

  ‘Laddie?’

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘He’s gone.’

  ‘I know, lad.’

  There was only me. I had to do it alone. ‘I’ll be back with Copper soon. She’ll help me get you out.’

  The wooden tack room wasn’t badly damaged, but the floor was strewn with towels, ropes, halters and picks. Even the saddles had jumped off their rails. I snatched up a lead rope and a coil of heavier rope and ran down to the yards.

  Three of the yard gates were wide open. I stared at the latches. The locks had come away, and the shaking must have swung open the gates. Jet, Silk and Coal were gone.

  Nugget and Satin trotted in jerky circles around their yards. Copper paced up and down her yard fence, her eyes wide and nostrils flaring. Pacing back and forth, back and forth, she didn’t recognize me when I called her name. Again I called out to her. Slowly, she calmed so I could get close enough to attach the lead rope to her halter.

  Leading her down to the rubble where Laddie lay, she danced about, unsure of what she saw and smelt, snorting at the dust still hanging in the air.

  Laddie was silent as I tied the rope to the beam that pinned him down. I looked over it again, checking where it would slide when Copper pulled it. It would only take a couple of yards to clear Laddie, and hopefully the bigger beam would take the weight as the smaller one slid off.

  Just as I swung the rope over Copper’s neck, the ground shook again. She reared, squealing in fright. The lead rope burned through my hands and she made straight for the yards. I followed when the ground stopped shaking.

  Again I had to calm her. It was easier this time with the lead rope already attached. I led her back, talking softly. There was no time to check Laddie. If there was another shake, I’d lose her again.