They were, but not by train. The Shillabeers would leave Exeter the way they had come, on foot. Their parting was stilted and polite. Maddy wondered how this new obligation to Cal Whitcomb would affect their lives back in the village.
For all of them, departure from the city could not come soon enough. Only leaving Mrs Polsoe caused any regret.
‘There’ll always be a welcome for you yer,’ she insisted. ‘You’m to come back soon, do you hear?’
‘Perhaps we will,’ said Maddy, giving her a farewell hug, though in her heart she felt that she never wanted to set eyes on Exeter again.
* * *
The peace and quiet of Duncannon was like balm to Maddy’s distressed spirits. Tired and footsore, they walked down the steep lane and there stood the three cottages on the river foreshore, nestling under the hill. There was no constant racket of passing traffic, the air was not heavy with lime dust and soot. There was just the clean salt smell of the Dart, overlaid by a scent of wood smoke. The cottage was not even dank and chill when they entered. Hot embers glowed on the hearth, there were logs stacked in the chimney comer and a fresh loaf of bread on the table – Annie and William’s work undoubtedly. Eveiything was so belovedly familiar that Maddy could have wept with the sheer joy of being home again.
When Annie and William came over to welcome them back, Maddy clung to them, their friendly, much-loved faces part of the pleasure of her homecoming. In time she would tell them of the terrible happenings, it would give her ease, but not yet. For the moment she was content to hold on to them, relieved and thankful to be back among people and places she loved.
Although she was glad to be home, she quite dreaded her first excursion into the village, but far from being hostile everyone was kindness itself.
‘There’s plenty of folks as wants to say this but feels awkward, so I may as well be the one as speaks up,’ said Mrs Cutmore, when Maddy went for tea and sugar. ‘Everyone be mortal sorry for what happened to your Davie. He deserved to be punished, but not like that. It were naught less than cruel and brutal. They heathens in the hot countries couldn’t have done worse. Us wants you to know as everyone feels terrible sorry for you and your pa and your brothers.’
There were other customers in the shop, awaiting their turn, and they murmured their assent. Maddy was deeply touched, the more so when she encountered similar sympathy wherever she went. She set off for home with her head full of messages of comfort to be relayed to Jack and the boys, and her basket full of small gifts – ajar of honey, a bunch of winter jasmine, a pot of clotted cream – donated by well-wishers. In the face of tragedy, the small community was gathering itself together and embracing the family with all the compassion it could muster.
Of Patrick there was no sign. That was the one disappointment in her homecoming.
Then suddenly she saw him. He was sitting on the wall at the end of the lane to Duncannon, waiting for her. As he saw her approach he jumped down and held out his arms. It was all the invitation Maddy needed. Ignoring her heavy basket, she ran to him.
‘I heard that you were back… but there were too many people about…’ He punctuated his words with kisses. ‘That’s why I waited here… where everyone’s eyes wouldn’t be on us. My poor love. What you have gone through. Was it very terrible?’
‘Yes,’ said Maddy simply. She still did not want to talk about it, and he did not press her.
‘It is behind you now,’ he said softly. ‘And you must forget about it. I’m here with you, to help take your mind off the unpleasantness by telling you how much I love you. That is what you must concentrate upon – how much we love each other.’
It was kindly meant, and Maddy cherished the idea of concentrating only upon their love, but she knew it was impossible. For once Patrick had misunderstood. He had no concept of the true depths of her suffering. She would, never forget what had happened to Davie. In time she would no doubt be able to push it to the back of her mind, but it would never leave her. She did not tell him this. He so clearly wanted to be her comfort and mainstay that she did not have the heart to disillusion him. It was preferable to savour the warmth of his love and be comforted by his presence.
‘I wish we had longer.’ Patrick stroked her cheek with his fingertips. ‘Sadly, this is a stolen meeting. I must get back before Mr Ford discovers I’m gone.’
‘Mr Ford? Don’t you mean Mr Watkins?’
‘No, I’m back at the Church House Inn again.’ He looked half shamefaced, half mischievous. There was a spot of bother while you were away. You recall Lottie, the barmaid at the Victoria and Albert? Seemingly she has a sweetheart who works in Penn’s Quarry, and this sweetheart made certain allegations against me that weren’t true – well, not entirely – and he threatened to bring his brothers and cause damage if I remained. The fellow is built like a barn end, and I understand his two brothers are constructed on the same lines. No, it was quite understandable of Sam Watkins to part with me sooner than offend three such heavyweight customers.’
Maddy laughed. She thought she had forgotten how, but the sound crept out of her unbidden.
‘And I dare say there were complaints from other quarters,’ she suggested, knowing full well that Sam Watkins was of sterner stuff than to capitulate before one isolated threat.
‘Maybe one or two.’ The comers of Patrick’s mouth twitched, then he flung his arms about her in a bear hug. ‘Oh Maddy, you are indeed exceptional. Any other woman would have been up in arms at my antics, but not you. But I am good for you too, aren’t I? See, I’ve got you laughing already.’
‘So you have,’ she smiled. ‘Yes, you are very good for me.’
‘Splendid.’ His kiss was feather light on her lips. ‘I hate to go, but I must. We’ll meet again soon.’
‘Soon.’ Maddy echoed the word.
The past, particularly the immediate past, could not be swept away like dust on a floor, however. There were many things that happened every day which brought back memories of Davie.
* * *
‘He’s out there somewhere, the wretch!’ Maddy declared vehemently one day after returning from the village.
‘Who be?’ asked her father.
‘Whoever put Davie up to that trick. He wasn’t in it alone.’
‘You bain’t still on about that, be you, maid?’ Jack said gently. ‘Forget un, that’s what I say.’
‘How can I forget it when I’m certain there’s someone walking the village who as good as killed our Davie?’
The brothers stopped spooning broth into their mouths and looked at her.
‘What be this you’m on about?’ asked Lew.
‘Some maggot her’ve got into her head,’ said Jack. ‘Her’ve the notion Davie weren’t alone, and that someone put him up to taking a pot shot at Cal Whitcomb’s hat.’
‘The longer I think on it, the more convinced I am,’ said Maddy firmly. ‘Consider it! Knowing what a fidget Davie was, can you imagine him thinking up a prank where he had to lie in wait behind a cold hedge for an hour or more? He could have been persuaded to do it easily enough, but he’d never have thought it up by himself. And there were things he let slip, about saying the stone was too big and wishing he hadn’t joined in the caper. An odd choice of words if he was by himself.’
Bart stirred his broth thoughtfully. ‘You asked Davie about this?’ he said.
‘Of course I did, but he denied it. Insisted he’d been on his own. I even went to Mr Attwill about it.’
‘Much good he’d be,’ murmured the usually silent Charlie.
But Lew intervened with, ‘What did he say?’
‘That even if we found there had been a second person, it would not have helped Davie. It would only have meant someone else going for trial as well.’
‘Then there’s no more to be said.’ Bart’s spoon stirred more quickly.
‘Yes, there is,’ declared Maddy. ‘We might have been able to prove that this other person was the instigator, particularly if he was older. That would
make him the truly guilty party. Perhaps Davie would have just got imprisonment. I’m sure this other person exists and I mean to find out who he is. I was down mill this afternoon and the usual idlers were hanging about there as they always do, the ones Davie loved to mix with no matter what we said. I had a talk with them, hoping one of them would give himself away. No one did this time, but I’ll keep on. I’m sure it was one of them. How he can live with himself is past belief. He was responsible for two deaths, Ned’s and Davie’s, yet he isn’t man enough to own up.’ Maddy stopped, aware that her voice had been rising along with her distress.
Silence followed. No one else agreed with her about the existence of a second person. Maddy did not care. She was still convinced and she would go on searching for him.
Next morning she was first up as usual, creeping downstairs so as not to wake the others. It would be some time before it was light, and she worked at her chores by the soft glow of the oil lamp. Shivering, she lit the fire, went out into the frost-sharp darkness to fetch water; then she set the kettle to boil and laid the table. She blessed the familiarity of her routine, anything which helped to get her life back to normal.
When all was ready, she called up the stairs to where Jack and his sons shared a room, then went back to stirring the porridge, one ear cocked for the usual sleepy stumblings which meant they were astir. Stockinged feet thudded on the stairs as a bleary-eyed Jack entered the kitchen, his braces dangling round his waist.
‘Our Bart be out in the privy?’ he asked.
‘Bart?’ replied Maddy in surprise. ‘Not that I know of. I haven’t seen him this morning yet.’
‘That be odd.’ Jack looked perplexed. ‘He idn’t upstairs and his bed be empty.’
‘In that case he must have gone out the back when I wasn’t looking,’ said Maddy. Then she shook her head. ‘No, I’ve just been out there myself and there wasn’t any sign of him. How peculiar…’
By now the other brothers had joined them.
‘Us didn’t hear him get up,’ said Lew. ‘Where the heck have he’m gone?’
‘I can’t recall him saying anything about having to start work extra early,’ Maddy said. ‘I suppose he did get dressed?’
‘Us didn’t think to look.’ Already Lew’s long legs were striding upstairs. He was back in an instant looking serious. ‘His clothes be gone,’ he said, ‘and the stuff in his locker. I reckon Bart have left home.’
‘Left home?’ The others stared at him.
‘Don’t be daft,’ said Jack scornfully. ‘Even if he did want to go, what need would Bart have of creeping off like a maid as was eloping?’
‘I don’t know,’ protested Lew, ‘but he’m gone, his things be gone and I found this. ’Tis addressed to you.’ He handed his father a folded piece of paper.
Jack held it towards the lamp to read more easily.
‘No!’ he exclaimed. ‘No!’ The letter fluttered from his hand as he sank into the chair and covered his face.
Maddy was at his side in an instant. ‘Father,’ she cried. ‘What is it? Are you all right?’ But Jack’s only response was to bury his face further in his hands.
It was left to Lew to pick up the letter and read it aloud.
‘Maddy got it right,’ he read. ‘I were too scared to own up but Davie kept silent and never gave me away. He were a far better man than me and I let him hang without saying a word. That’s why I can’t stay, not after what I done. If it be any comfort, I be paying a terrible price, for I won’t never have no peace for the rest of my days. I can’t ask none of you to forgive me – I won’t never forgive myself…’
‘I don’t understand. What do he mean?’ asked Charlie.
But Lew and Maddy understood right enough. They stared at one another with tense, white faces.
‘He means,’ Lew explained slowly, ‘that Maddy here were right when she said that someone else put Davie up to un. Someone as never owned up.’
‘You don’t mean it were Bart?’ Charlie exclaimed in a shocked voice. ‘Never our Bart!’
‘Looks that way, said Lew.
‘When I spoke up, I—I never thought of someone so close to home,’ whispered Maddy in distress. ‘I thought it was one of that rough lot down mill. I never guessed… I said some hard words, not knowing, and now I’ve driven Bart away.’
‘It were best he went.’ Jack spoke up for the first time. He had recovered some of his self-control and sat more upright in his chair, although his face remained white and pinched. ‘Yes, it be for the best. What you said was right, maid, even though you didn’t know you was meaning our Bart. He were equal guilty in the killing of Ned, and as for Davie’s death… as for Davie’s death, he were responsible for that sure enough. He were old enough to have knowd better, instead of egging the boy on. I think it best if us don’t mention his name in this house again.’ He rose to his feet, hauled his braces over his shoulders and reached for his jacket.
‘Where are you going?’ cried Maddy.
‘To work, maid. Where else? Can’t be late for work.’
‘But you haven’t had any breakfast.’ Still reeling from this new shock, Maddy clutched at her domestic routine for support.
‘Couldn’t eat naught, but I’ll take a drop of tea. You can be pouring it as I does up my laces.’ There was a grim air of determined calm about Jack as he pulled on his heavy boots. The task completed, he looked at his two remaining sons. ‘As for you two, habn’t you best be stirring yourselves?’
He did not wait for an answer, but drained his tea and strode out so swiftly that Maddy was obliged to run after him with his midday bread and cheese. ,
‘Does this mean us idn’t never to speak of Bart again?’ asked Charlie.
‘Not in Father’s hearing, certainly,’ said Lew.
‘What’s us to say if folks ask about un?’ Charlie persisted.
‘We’d best say he’s decided to go to sea,’ said Maddy. ‘It’s likely to be the truth, anyway. I expect he’s heading down to Dartmouth to find a ship.’
‘I expect he be.’ Charlie nodded, content with this solution. ‘Do you think he’ll ever come back?’
Maddy and Lew exchanged glances.
‘I doubt it, somehow,’ said Maddy.
‘Pity. I be going to miss old Bart.’ Charlie, too, put on his jacket. ‘Come on, Lew. Us idn’t doing no good standing yer jawing. Let’s be going.’
Lew stuffed his bread and cheese in his pocket, and turned to look at Maddy. ‘I be sorry us’ve got to leave you alone,’ he said. ‘Tell you what! You’m scarce touched that gurt book of youm. Why not take un over to Annie’s and have a good read? You’d enjoy un, the pair of you.’
‘I might do that,’ Maddy said shakily. He had a good heart, had Lew, it was thoughtful of him to be so concerned for her.
The cottage felt terribly empty after they had gone. In the lamplight, eveiything seemed forlorn, and the smell of scorching from the neglected porridge on the fire did nothing to lighten the atmosphere of gloom. Setting the burnt pan to soak, Maddy went about her morning chores, willing herself not to think of what had happened. She succeeded fairly well until she went upstairs to make the beds. It was the sight of Bart’s empty cot, and the door swinging wide on his empty locker which undid her. After Davie’s death, she had thought that nothing could hurt again, but this did. This was a new and totally unlooked-for pain. Strangely, it was not thoughts of Bart’s betrayal or his cowardice in not sharing the blame which filled her head, but memories of the younger, gentler Bart of her childhood. It was also grief at the loss of another brother, for from now on Bart would be as good as dead to them all.
Somehow she set about her chores, then steeled herself to go over to Annie’s. Annie was a sharp one, she would have to be told something, and the sooner the better, before she started putting two and two together.
‘Gone off to sea? Your Bart?’ The other woman received the story with astonishment. ‘You do surprise me. Your Charlie I could accept, he’m always been a
bit of a wanderer. But Bart! And so sudden too. I’d have said his roots be too deep here for un to leave.’
Maddy felt herself go tense before the strength of Annie’s incredulity. Maybe it was an unlikely story, one that nobody would believe, but what other explanation could she give? Then to her intense relief Annie said, ‘Still, ’tis a hard time you’m all had of late. Enough to unsettle any lad. Your Bart idn’t the first to want to get far away from unpleasant memories, nor will he be the last.’ She put a kindly arm about Maddy’s shoulders. ‘You’m no need to look so wisht, maid. You’m going to miss him, I knows, but maybe this be just what the boy needs for a spell. A voyage or two and some seagoing vittles and he’m going to be glad to be back.’
Maddy knew better, though she could not say so. I’m sure you’re right,’ she said, managing a tremulous smile. ‘Meanwhile, I think those of us left behind could do with a diversion. I’ll bring Wuthering Heights over after dinner, shall I?’
‘That would be grand.’ Annie beamed. ‘I’ll be sure to have the kettle boiling.’
Before that, however, there was the morning to fill in. Long, empty hours when Maddy would have too much time for unhappy thoughts. As ever, hard work seemed to be the best antidote, and she was so busy cleaning that at first she did not realise she had a visitor.
‘If I’d known how little you wanted my company I’d not have gone down on my bended knees for an hour off,’ said a voice.
‘Patrick!’ For an instant the chair she was standing on wobbled precariously, then she was swept into the safety of his arms. Patrick!’ she repeated.
It did not matter that she was enveloped in a hessian apron, nor that she had soapsuds up to the elbow. He was there, nothing else was important. She clung to him, pressing her face against his shoulder. ‘How did you know I needed you more than anything in the world just at this moment?’ she asked, her voice muffled by the cloth of his jacket.
Daughter of the River Page 25
