Salting the Wound

by Janet Woods

  Adam didn’t miss the nuance. ‘His aunt is no longer here?’

  ‘Marianne has married and has moved into her husband’s home. She is Mrs Thornton now.’

  Judging by the hurried marriage, obviously the fisherman had told the truth about what he’d seen, then. ‘John must miss her.’

  ‘Yes . . . John and Marianne were good companions. She grew up in this house, and used to take him out on the heath. He enjoys learning things.’

  ‘You have a father’s pride in your voice.’

  ‘And the same love for him that a father should have. To all intents and purposes John is my son, since his mother put him in my care from infancy.’ His voice took on a slightly mocking tone. ‘I concede that his artistic talent comes from his father’s blood, for I have several Barrie drawings and paintings, including some of Mary . . . his mother. They are John’s legacy. You know, Adam, you didn’t need to argue me into it. I’m quite willing to take John to London to meet his grandfather if Sir Charles is not well enough to travel here. I’ll go to London on Friday and return on Monday, so John doesn’t miss too much school.’

  Adam smiled with relief. ‘Good, I had planned to travel back on Friday myself. We could go together, perhaps.’

  Laughter coloured Seth’s voice now. ‘Surely you don’t intend to act as my escort?’

  ‘Certainly not. You look to be more a man than I could handle should you want to give me the slip, and I’m not given to violence unless it’s in defence of myself. The truth is I find the journey is tedious and I would welcome your company and that of John.’

  ‘Then you shall have it. Now, would you care for some coffee, Adam?’

  ‘Thank you . . . but I believe my five minutes might be up by now.’

  Seth laughed. ‘I can afford you five more, I imagine. Are you accommodated? I can put you up if you wish. We don’t often have guests; we’re rather isolated.’

  ‘Your surroundings are beautiful, so that must compensate for it. You were born here in Dorset, were you not?’

  ‘My mother was from Dorchester, and my father was a soldier. He died abroad and I can’t remember him all that well. I was born and brought up in the home of my maternal grandmother. My mother took in pupils, so she saw to my early education . . .’ Seth raised an eyebrow. ‘But I imagine you know that.’

  ‘Not that particular snippet. You were twelve when she died, and your grandmother sent you to a boarding school. There was enough left in her estate to pay for your commission . . . and your Scottish relative left you quite well off when he died.’

  ‘And I never knew he existed until then.’ Seth looked him straight in the eye. ‘I really must change my legal representation in Scotland.’

  ‘It might be a good idea. I can suggest someone whom I know to be both honest and discreet, if you’d wish. And thank you for your offer of hospitality. I accept, because I’d really like to explore your heath a little. You mine clay and gravel, I believe.’

  ‘I can take you up and show you the pits if you like. The clay is conveyed in carts along rails to the loading barges, sorted, and then sold to the various potteries.’

  A few days later two men and a boy were about to board a train at Poole Junction. They would change trains at Southampton, then alight at Waterloo Bridge station.

  John’s quick smile revealed his nervous excitement at this momentous event in his life, but he pressed hard against Seth’s side and hugged a small exercise notebook, in which Seth had drawn a map of their journey and the towns they would pass through.

  Before they’d left the house Charlotte had fussed. She’d checked all their buttons were attached, and that they both had clean handkerchiefs in their pockets. ‘Make sure you’re on your best behaviour, John.’

  ‘Yes, Mama.’

  ‘There’s a picnic basket. Don’t eat the food all at once in case you’re sick . . . that goes for you too, Seth. And you, Mr Chapman.’

  The three men exchanged a grin when she said, ‘Goodness, what are you waiting for then? Off you go. The cab is outside and you’ll miss the train if you don’t hurry. Goodbye, Mr Chapman. It was nice meeting you. You’ll have to bring your mother and sister to visit one day.’

  ‘They would enjoy that, I’m sure.’

  After the other two had left the house Seth took Charlotte’s face between his hands and gazed into her wary blue eyes. She’d been low in spirits since Erasmus Thornton had collared her at the church and given her a dressing down, something he knew she’d deserved. He kissed her mouth with more intimacy than she usually encouraged, and colour flooded her cheeks.

  ‘Do something for me,’ he said.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Don’t think so badly of Marianne. Make your peace with her.’

  Her face tensed. ‘Not while she’s living under Thornton’s roof.’

  ‘You sent her there, and thank God they took her in.’

  ‘Oh, my sister always lands the right way up. People like her with her pretty ways. She didn’t have to fight for anything when we were small. I did it for her. Well, now she knows what it’s like to have people talking about her, and it serves her right. Running away with Nick Thornton without a word and bringing shame down on her family is unforgivable. And I don’t believe they are married, whatever Erasmus Thornton said. He’s just trying to save face.’

  ‘What is it that’s so unforgivable? The marriage itself. The infant she is carrying, or the fact that she has married Nick, a man who I happen to like.’

  ‘Seth,’ she murmured helplessly. ‘I can’t forgive her. I don’t know why, because she made a fool of me, I imagine. One day, perhaps . . .’

  ‘It’s a pity you can’t give love with a passion equal to your capacity to hate.’

  She flinched. ‘I can . . . I love my children.’

  ‘They’re not your children, my dear. They’re ours, and I love them just as much.’

  She took a step back, the colour draining away as if she was about to faint, her vulnerability apparent to him. ‘You don’t intend to take them away from me, do you, Seth? I couldn’t bear it.’

  He gazed at her, a frown on his face. ‘Whatever put that idea in your head? I wouldn’t think of depriving the children of their mother.’

  ‘Last night I dreamed the gypsy came to me, and I heard a child calling out. It was lost, and the dream was so real that I got up and went to check on the children.’

  He wanted to comfort her, but she wouldn’t have welcomed it. ‘It was only a dream, Charlotte. Don’t let it trouble you.’

  ‘But it seemed so real, and it has stayed with me.’ She shrugged, and in a moment of unconscious self-deprecation said wryly, ‘I’m usually more sensible about such things. I think I got the best of the marriage bargain we made.’

  He grinned at that, said, ‘I’m not complaining. You do have some good qualities, and I’ve learned to love you, anyway.’

  Her eyes rounded in disbelief, but her smile eased the tension from her face as she murmured, ‘I didn’t realize.’

  Neither had he until that moment. Kissing her again, he left her with that thought.

  When they reached London they took a cab directly to Bedford Square. The door opened to their knock. When he saw Adam, the butler allowed them into the hall. His gaze fell on John and awareness came into his eyes. ‘Is Sir Charles expecting you?’

  ‘No, but I imagine he’ll want to see us.’ Seth handed the man his card.

  The man was back within seconds. ‘Sir Charles will see you. May I take your coats and hats, gentlemen?’

  When the butler announced them Sir Charles waved him away. ‘I’ll ring if I need you.’

  The old man rose with some difficulty, using a stick for support. The hand Seth shook had a firm grip, but the skin was dry and there was a fine tremor to it. If Seth had ever doubted this man was John’s grandfather, he didn’t now. The eyes looking into his could have been John’s, only the gaze was much more astute. It was disconcerting.

  �
�So, we meet at last,’ Sir Charles said. ‘Mr Chapman, please feel free to leave now your mission has been concluded.’

  ‘I’d prefer Mr Chapman to stay, since his thorough investigation of me on your behalf has assured that both of you know more about me than I do. No doubt he’ll be interested in the outcome of this meeting first hand. Also, he’s been kind enough to accommodate us while we are here.’

  Sir Charles didn’t seem to be too pleased by that. ‘Very well, Colonel Hardy. You won’t mind if I sit, will you, and I hope you will do the same. Let the boy come forward so I can see him.’

  ‘John, do as your grandfather requests. I’ll be here.’

  ‘Yes, Pa.’ He stepped forward and held out his hand. ‘How do you do, sir. I’m pleased to meet you. And thank you for sending me the telescope. Sometimes I look at the stars through it. Aunt Marianne was teaching me their names, and she was helping me make a chart.’

  ‘Your aunt must be very clever.’

  ‘Oh, she is. She helped me make a belt from the skin of a dead adder. Only it didn’t fit, and she said it smelled disgusting, so we threw it away.’

  ‘One would hope it wasn’t a live snake.’ Sir Charles chuckled at his own joke.

  ‘No, sir,’ John said earnestly. ‘I’m to keep away from live snakes. They have venom in their fangs and if they bite me I’ll become very sick.’

  When John gazed up at him as if seeking assurance, Seth smiled at him. ‘There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?’

  Tears were trembling on the old man’s lashes. ‘Thank you for bringing the boy, Colonel Hardy. I appreciate it. Are you hungry, John?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Something stated with such enthusiasm that Seth laughed. ‘He’s always hungry.’

  ‘D’you know, I have an appetite too. Ring that bell over there, and when my butler comes in ask him to serve us all some tea, with hot buttered muffins and fruit cake. What’s that book in your hands?’

  ‘It’s for you, sir. I made a book, so you can learn about the birds and animals on the heath where I live.’ He flicked over a page. ‘That’s a nightjar. The male has white patches on his wings and tail. If you go out at dusk and wave a white handkerchief they fly out from their nests and attack it, because they think their territory is being invaded by other nightjars.’ His finger stabbed at the next page, ‘That one’s a woodlark. See, it has a white stripe over its eyes, and those feathers on top of its head ruffle up into a crest.’

  John’s stomach gurgled, and it must have reminded him of the buttered muffins, because he placed the book on the table next to his grandfather’s lap and headed for the bell pull.

  ‘Tea for four, please, Mr Butler,’ he said, when the servant appeared. ‘We’d like hot buttered muffins and fruit cake.’

  ‘Certainly, Master John, and my name is Ballam. Would you like to come with me and wash your hands before tea.’

  John gazed at his hands. ‘No thank you, Mr Ballam . . . they’re not very dirty.’

  Seth frowned. ‘Wash them please, John. You’ve been on the train all day.’

  ‘How long are you to remain in London for, Colonel Hardy?’ Sir Charles said after John had followed the butler out.

  ‘I don’t want him to take too much time off from school. We return to Poole on Monday, and will be staying with Mr Chapman in the meantime. You can see him again at Easter, as we arranged.’

  ‘I see . . . would you at least consider leaving John with me until you depart. I’d like to get to know him better.’

  ‘He’s a lively child and he’ll tax your strength.’

  ‘One of my maids can take charge of him.’

  ‘I daresay one would, but I promised my wife I’d keep him with me.’

  As John returned, Charles said, ‘Well, let’s ask John, shall we? Edgar tells me he didn’t see a dog when he visited you. I have a friend whose bitch has just produced puppies. I was thinking that John might like one. John, would you like to stay with me until your stepfather picks you up to return to Poole?’

  Eyes shining, John said, ‘Will I be able to take the puppy home with me?’

  His grandfather gave a faint smile. ‘Only if it’s old enough to leave its mother . . . that’s if your stepfather allows you to.’

  John’s eyes flicked his way, and they held worry. Already he was inseparable from the thought of having a puppy, and Seth was cast as the villain who would prevent him from getting his heart’s desire. As crafty as a fox, Adam had said of Sir Charles Barrie, and it was true. But Seth didn’t intend to be cornered.

  ‘Please don’t manipulate John into your way of thinking, Sir Charles, or we’ll be on the next train home. I’m sure we can find a puppy for you at the market in Dorchester if you want one, John, and you can choose your own. As for him staying, not tonight, Sir Charles. Perhaps tomorrow night. I’ll think about it.’

  ‘You don’t trust me with my own grandson?’

  ‘I’d rather not discuss such matters in front of John.’ In fact, Seth was beginning to regret bringing him to London at all.

  The next evening Seth was persuaded to leave John with his grandfather. He was loath to leave him because he had misgivings, though it was instinct more than anything.

  On Monday he presented himself to Charles Barrie’s house. The butler couldn’t meet his eyes and said unhappily, ‘I have instructions not to admit you, sir.’

  Seth’s heart plummeted and he pushed the butler out of the way. He could hear men’s voices from the study and pushed the door open so violently that it crashed back against the wall. ‘Where’s my son?’

  Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at him.

  ‘Are you referring to my grandson, John Barrie?’

  ‘John was placed in my charge by his mother. The paper was legally notarized.’

  ‘In Van Diemen’s Land, which has no jurisdiction here. I have an order issued by the British court, handing custody of the child to me. Besides, possession is nine tenths of the law, Colonel Hardy.’

  The other two men there were both young and powerful and wearing police uniforms. One rose and went to stand between him and the door. The other one said, ‘I’m a police constable, Colonel Hardy. Will you go quietly?’

  ‘John?’ he yelled, and lunged for the door.

  The two men floored him between them. Strong as he was, they were stronger. His hands were manacled behind his back. Outside a whistle was blown. As they dragged him out on to the pavement he looked up and saw John at the window.

  ‘Pa,’ the boy shouted out, though his voice was so faint that Seth could hardly hear it as he scrabbled at the window. ‘Let me out, I want to go home.’

  A thin-faced man appeared behind him and dragged him away.

  Seconds later a horse and police cart arrived. Seth was thrown inside and the vehicle clopped off. The interior smelled of vomit.

  Fifteen

  The small group of survivors huddled under the overhang while the storm thrashed around them. After three days the sky cleared and the sun came up. Steam rose and perspiration covered them, along with various biting insects.

  Red was the worst off. He had the white skin usually associated with red hair, and the heat turned him a shade of lobster pink. Once they’d left the coast behind there was more shade and they no longer needed the sun hats they’d made from ferns.

  There was plenty to eat. Small freshwater lobsters hid under the overhangs, and fish. Game was everywhere, though hard to catch unless it was cornered, and more than once, Nick wished they’d had a gun. They discovered that the fern roots were edible.

  It rained often, and the nights were so cold that they huddled together under the canvas. They all thinned down, but the activity allowed them to keep their muscle strength. After a fortnight they wore beards, even the downy-faced Sam.

  Nick gazed up at the sheer mountain face towering about them. He’d overestimated how long it would take them. Certainly not ten miles a day. If they were lucky they might have covered two, and going on
that it would take them several weeks. He began to wish they’d gone round the coast as he flopped down on a rock. ‘Let’s spend the night here. I think we’re lost, gentlemen, and we need to catch some more game.’

  ‘Oh, we’ll get out of it sooner or later,’ Red said cheerfully. How are you holding up, Sam?’

  ‘All right. I could eat a whole pie crammed with stewed apples and swimming in custard.’

  Nick smiled at the thought. ‘A chunk of crusty bread with some ham, a wad of cheese and pickles would do me.’

  ‘And I’d like a whole pig roasted on a spit in its own crackling with potatoes and cabbage and gravy.’ Red laughed. ‘Well, having tortured ourselves with those thoughts, what about lizard for a change.’

  ‘Lizard?’

  ‘There’s one sunning itself on a rock across the river. All we’ve got to do is catch it.’

  ‘It’ll run like the wind before we can get to it,’ Sam said.

  ‘But which way? What if two of us sneak up behind it and one approaches it from the front?’

  Nick and Sam elected to do the catching, and set off in opposite directions so they could cross the river and circle round, while Red distracted it. Once in position they gave a soft hoot and Red approached it.

  The animal stood and gazed at Red, then it came up on its back legs into the defensive position, its tail lashed back and forth and it gave a ferocious hiss.

  Red hissed back and advanced through the water. The animal held its ground, then panicked when Red got within striking distance. Turning fast, the lizard headed for the nearest undergrowth and up the trunk of a tree. Nick made a lunge for it, but Sam was faster and grabbed hold of its thick tail with both hands.

  The lizard held fast to the tree, its claws dug into the bark as it hissed and snarled. Nick joined him, knife at the ready, and he drew the blade across the animal’s throat. As the animal dropped to the ground in its death throes, it twisted and scraped its teeth on Sam’s arm, leaving a deep scratch. Nick’s booted foot came down across its neck, and stayed there until it stopped moving. He hoped its bite wasn’t venomous. ‘You’d better clean the wound in the river right away. I’ll gut the beast.’