The Liars

by Ida Linehan Young

  “How about the day after tomorrow?”

  “Oh, John,” Alice said. She threw her arms around him. “We’ve waited long enough.”

  43

  Erith and Danol had one final thing to sort out before returning to the Angel Endeavours. “You’re sure about this?”

  “As sure as I’ll ever be,” she said.

  “Constable Jeffries made the arrangements for 2:00 p.m. That will give us time to walk there if you want.”

  “I’d like that,” Erith said.

  “Are you nervous?” Danol asked.

  “Just a little. But I’ll be fine as long as you’re with me.” He kissed her cheek, helped her with her coat, and they set out for the St. John’s Penitentiary near Quidi Vidi.

  The day was warm and breezy. They walked the cobbled streets arm in arm, chatting about the children and everything that had happened over the last few days.

  “Alexander MacDonald seems like a nice man.”

  “I thought so, too,” Danol said.

  “I can’t believe how easy it was to convince him to come with us.”

  “Well, he wanted to see his son get married.”

  “John and Alice were happy enough to postpone their wedding by a few days when they found out he might be able to come.”

  “Walsh and Hearn are gone to help him take what he wants,” said Danol. “They’ll be on board before we get back.”

  “Did you talk to John yet about Mount Carmel and the mill?”

  “No, not yet. I think he’ll agree to run it for me. John’s not happy accepting charity, as he calls it. He’s grateful but says he wants to work.”

  “So, you’ll be building boats,” Erith teased.

  “After I finish the house.”

  “But it’s finished.”

  “Not the way I want it. It was finished when I was a bachelor. Now I’m a married man, and I have needs,” he said and squeezed her arm. They both laughed.

  “Needs. Well, now, I can’t wait to find out what those are,” Erith said, pushing him off his stride.

  They continued to banter back and forth until the large stone building came into view. “There it is, my dear,” Danol said. “It’s not too late to go back.”

  “If you’re going, then I’m going,” she said. “And I know you’re going.”

  They wound their way along the gravelled path that led to the front of the building that backed onto Quidi Vidi lake.

  “I don’t see a door,” said Erith.

  “Jeffries said to go down to the right, and the entrance was there. Almost like it’s under the hill.”

  “It must be there where the guard is,” she said as she pointed toward a man in a black uniform. As they crested the small rise, they noticed stables to their far right separated from the main building. They couldn’t tell if the huge stone structure was three or four storeys high. There were no windows to be seen, but there were indents that were either placed for show or were intended to be glassed at one point in time.

  Danol spoke to the guard. The man eyed Erith and asked if he was sure she wanted to go in. Danol assured him that she would be fine. They passed through a large iron gate and entered a stone-covered porch. The guard rapped on the wooden doors, and a small shutter, not much bigger than a peep hole, opened. The guard gave his permission to open the doors. The shutter closed, and the latch creaked before one of the doors swung wide. They looked to be almost a foot thick.

  Two guards stood inside, one behind a table directly in front of them and one near the door. The one closer motioned for them to go to the desk. Danol told him the name of the prisoner they were there to see.

  The man who stood by the door secured the latch and then strode down the long corridor to another a set of bars. He unlocked them, a portion swung inwards, and he went inside. The remaining guard told them to wait on a bench that had been partially hidden by the open door. They sat in silence until they heard the guard call to them from the end of the corridor. They followed him to a small room through a maze of walkways that overlooked the pond and a grassy area enclosed by a stone wall. They entered the room, and the guard stood by the door. Danol and Erith sat on one side of a long, narrow table that divided the room.

  A door on the opposite wall opened, and a guard and a man in a white striped shirt and pants entered. The prisoner was brought to the table and seated, and the guard backed up to the brick wall.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Cooper?”

  “Elias Ryan, or should I say Captain Baker, have you met my wife?” Danol kept his voice low so the guards wouldn’t hear him.

  “Can’t say as I have. Mrs. Cooper. Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” the prisoner said.

  “We know who you are,” Erith said, her face flushed at her whispered outburst.

  “I know. Your husband knew me on the boat.”

  “No, I mean we know who you are,” she said.

  The man studied her for a moment. “Tell me more,” he said.

  “We came to bring news of Rosie,” she said. “I’m sorry to have to tell you that Rosie died at my home a few days ago.” She couldn’t tell by his face if what she was saying registered with him.

  “The doctor tried to save her, but she had a lung infection that was left untreated for too long,” Danol put in.

  “We gave her a proper burial,” Erith said rather quickly.

  “Thank you,” Elias said. “I knew this would come to Rosie sooner rather than later.”

  “She died peacefully. If that’s any comfort to you,” Erith said.

  “I’m sure you didn’t come here to tell me Rosie was dead. Although I appreciate it, why are you here?”

  “Your mother reared me,” Erith said. He didn’t blink. Elias showed no sign that her words meant anything to him. Erith went on to tell him what Mrs. Patsy had told her.

  “What was she like?” Elias asked.

  “I won’t lie,” Erith replied.

  “I don’t want you to.”

  Danol held her hand beneath the table as she described the dismal life she’d had with Kathleen. The sadness came through in her voice. “The only good thing that came out of that was my getting to meet those three precious children whom I now call my own. They’re your kin. We have both adopted them.”

  “I think you already know this,” Danol said.

  “What if I do?”

  “Nothing, really,” Danol said. “But I also think that what happened to the children and to Erith a few years ago had something to do with you, Elias.”

  Erith squeezed his hand beneath the table and hung her head.

  “It had to do with the children, I’ll admit,” Elias said at length. “And what happened to your wife was an unfortunate consequence for which a harsh message has been sent.”

  Erith gasped. “You mean . . .”

  “A very harsh and final message, Mrs. Cooper,” Elias said with emphasis. “We are brigands. We are not beasts. I don’t tolerate that behaviour.”

  Danol rubbed the back of Erith’s hand, hoping to provide a little comfort as she endeavoured to comprehend Elias’s words. He felt her shift just a little as she tried to lean closer. He suspected she didn’t want to call attention to her discomfort, nor to show any weakness in front of Elias. Danol pulled her hand over to rest on his leg and covered it with his own.

  “What was the recent attack about?” Danol asked. “You had spies on my boat.”

  “In some ways, coincidence, Mr. Cooper. I also have a debt to settle with you for interrupting my lucrative rum-running. You cost me a boat. But you also have care of my kin, although few people know that. I had planned to take your cargo, keep you and your crew for a few days, then let you go. Unfortunately, you interrupted that, so the price still remains and has doubled.”

&n
bsp; “And what was the coincidence?” Danol asked him.

  “Let’s just say we had an accident a few years ago on the Labrador. One of my men, dare I say . . . got a little too fervent. He murdered some crew on a vessel and left one alive. Although I didn’t agree with what had happened, nor was I present at the time, I take responsibility for the actions of my men. The one who was killed on the boat, he can no longer give witness against what happened, so, thanks to that boy, I no longer have that problem. How is the boy, by the way?”

  “He’s just fine. He’s not one of your kin,” Danol said.

  “I know that. He’s a little too old.”

  “I need to know my family is safe,” Danol said. He squeezed Erith’s hand beneath the table.

  “I have respect for you, Mr. Cooper. You’re a smart man. Have you ever considered becoming a pirate?”

  Danol laughed without smiling. “You haven’t answered my question. You seem like a smart man. Have you ever considered going into a legitimate business?”

  “You answer my question first,” Elias said. “Why didn’t you turn me in on the ship? You knew who I was. You were a man of the law, and I believe you still are.”

  “That’s hard to answer, because I honestly don’t know. Maybe something came over me. Nothing had really happened beyond some threats.” Danol paused and regarded Elias. “I wanted you to have a victory, of sorts, in the eyes of your men. I believe it is something of a point of honour among captains. I may have made that up from a dream, or I may have heard that somewhere, sometime. Very vague, I realize, but yes, I did know it was you, and honour is important to me.”

  “We are not so different,” said the prisoner. “Honour is important to me, too. I appreciate your efforts. Your family is safe. You have my word.”

  The tension Danol felt in his belly slowly ebbed, and he almost sighed aloud. “But my ship is not. Do I have that correct?”

  “There is a price to be paid. My men must see that,” Elias replied. “However, your ship will not be harmed, your crew will not be harmed, and I believe you carry insurance for your cargo. Am I really hurting you? And just so you don’t lose any business, I’ll make sure there is at least a year in between.”

  Danol chuckled. “And if I try to avoid such encounters?”

  “The price will go up.”

  “At least I know how things are. I’m holding you to your word on my family,” Danol said. “That’s what’s important to me.”

  “I consider myself held,” Elias said with a nod. He turned to Erith. “I am truly sorry for what happened to you. I do feel responsible in many ways. Thank you for taking care of Rosie, and thank you for taking care of the three little ones. I have no children myself, so I consider them my kin. That includes you.” He turned to Danol and grinned. “I guess, by circumstance, that means you, too.”

  “Constable Jeffries tells me you will be out by next week, at the latest. He was intrigued by my request to see you but didn’t pursue it.”

  “It’s not so bad in here,” Elias said. He shrugged. “A bit of a rest, actually.”

  “If it will help pay my debt earlier, I got the Seafarer for a pittance as salvage. She’ll be at the dock here for at least a couple of weeks before I move her.”

  “I’ll take it under consideration. I have a week to think about it.”

  Danol led Erith back the way they came, following the guard. She hadn’t said much, and he hoped he wouldn’t regret bringing her along. It was troubling him. He didn’t want to keep secrets from her, but maybe this could be an exception.

  When they got outside and away from the prison, he stopped on the path before they reached the cemetery. Erith was silent as she clutched his arm. He pulled her around to face him. “I shouldn’t have brought you in there,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m fine, Danol,” she said.

  “You’re not. Before you went in, you were talkative and happy. Now you are quiet and seem so sad.”

  “I’m just thinking about what he said.”

  “Which part?”

  “When he said the people had paid for hurting me. He meant those men were killed, didn’t he?”

  “I believe he did, yes.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking about,” Erith said. “I was happy when I heard those men had been killed. Does that make me like Elias?”

  “Oh, Erith, not at all. That makes you who you are. I was ready to kill them myself when I found out. Only for Peter stopping me, I might have done it. Don’t feel badly for those men.”

  “I don’t.” Erith paused and pushed away from his embrace. Her eyes were big and wet. “When I heard they’d been killed in prison before the trial, for a time I felt like I didn’t get justice. They were still dead, but I felt like I had somehow been robbed. But now that I know they were killed because of what they did to me, it makes me feel different—like I was avenged. Does it make me a bad person for being happy about that? Not really happy—more like satisfied.”

  “Erith, my love, that makes you the most beautiful person I know.” Danol pulled her to him once more and kissed her. “I can’t believe how much I love you and how lucky I am to have you by my side.”

  He led her along beside the cemetery and glanced at the spot where they had supposedly buried Teddy White. Tonight, after they set sail, he’d officiate and marry John MacDonald and Nancy Alice Martin to fulfill their wish that Beatrice would not know about their complicated relationship.

  As they strolled past the stores on Water Street, something caught Erith’s eye in the London, New York and Paris store on the corner of Baird’s Lane, and she dragged Danol to a stop.

  “I don’t remember this store being here,” she said.

  “It’s been here a couple of years, I believe. We probably wouldn’t have passed it, though, as we usually came down Duckworth Street. Is there something you want?”

  “Do we have time?” she asked.

  “As long as we’re back before supper,” said Danol. “Do you plan on being in there that long?”

  “No, I just want to get that,” she said as she pointed at the window display.

  “What? I only see that white thing with wheels. Is that what you’re looking at?”

  “Yes,” Erith said. She looked at him and searched his face.

  Danol was confused. He didn’t know what the thing was. It looked like a tea cart of some sort, but he didn’t know Erith to want for fancy things. “Do you want me to go in and get it for you?” he asked. “I have no notion of what it is.”

  “Danol, surely you’ve seen one before,” she said as she continued to stare at him. “It’s a pram. A baby carriage.”

  “A baby carriage? Who do you need one for?” he asked.

  “For us.”

  “For us,” he repeated. Then it struck him. “For us?” She nodded as she continued to stare at him. “For us!”

  He grabbed her and spun her around and shouted, “For us!”

  “Danol, put me down,” Erith cried. She giggled, her face turned red, and she made a swat at him to set her down.

  “Oh, did I hurt you?” Irrational fear seized him.

  “No, you didn’t hurt me.”

  “Did I hurt the baby? Erith, we’re having a baby? When? How do you know?” His emotions went from one extreme to the other. He couldn’t control them.

  “Mary Ro says I am.”

  “Mary knows?”

  “Yes, Mary knows. She examined me when she was over two days ago,” Erith said. “I didn’t want to tell you until we had finished up with everything today. Then our conversation took us somewhere else, and I was going to wait until tomorrow. Then I saw the carriage. Are you happy, Danol?”

  “I don’t know. I think I am. I don’t know what I am. This is a shock. I know that’s what happe
ns when, you know . . .” he said. “But I hadn’t thought about it. But I did think about it. I’m building a nursery on the third floor for us and for babies.”

  “Oh, Danol, a nursery?”

  “Yes, and the first thing that I’m getting is that thing in there. What did you call it?”

  “A pram.”

  “A pram. That’s the first thing I’m getting for it.” He laughed and was about to pick her up again, but he stopped himself. He had to try to keep better control over his impulses when he was around her.

  Erith laughed. “It’s okay, Danol. You won’t break me.”

  “Oh, Erith, a baby! With you!” He kissed her soundly in the middle of the street before entering the store. He purchased every baby item that was for sale.

  44

  One year later

  The Angel Endeavours tapped off the dock in Mount Carmel, and Mary Ro, standing on the gunwale and with one hand gripping a wooden rail on the house, was first to spring onto the wharf. This urgency was familiar to her, but not to Erith. John’s grimace and furrowed brow worried her. He was waiting to carry Mary’s doctor’s bag.

  Danol signalled for Erith to follow them as they rushed to the edge of the beach and up over the embankment to the two-storey house in the meadow. Not as sure-footed, the gravel skittered beneath her feet and she had to catch herself to stay upright.

  Beatrice waved from the gallery. Mary and John darted past her into the house. A few steps behind, Erith held out her arms to the child as she came up the steps, and Beatrice pressed herself into Erith’s embrace. Beatrice bawled while Erith, grappling for breath, led her to the wooden chair beneath the window on the covered deck.

  Erith pulled the girl into her arms and hugged her tightly until the child was spent. John came out moments later and sat on a stool near the step. He put his palms to his face and rubbed them around his temples while he bent to rest his elbows on his knees.

  “Daddy.”

  He straightened and looked at Beatrice. “Mommy will be fine,” he said, sounding more confident than he looked. “Dr. Mary is with her now.”