by Ruby Moone
Harry nodded. That was Charlie. Neat and methodical. Harry just wanted to run about like a madman until he found Julian. He made himself follow Charlie’s plan. At least Charlie seemed to know his way about.
A thought occurred to Harry. “Do you visit Scarborough often?”
“Not really,” Charlie said. “I’ve been a few times. I quite like walking on the cliffs, and visiting the bookshop.”
Harry glanced at him. “Is there much…society?”
Charlie stared forward. “No. I go to London for that.”
“Oh.” Harry wondered if he had offended him so he shut up. He’d certainly never seen him in Dante’s club. He wondered if he had someone in London that he visited. The thought was sobering.
They walked and walked and Charlie took them past another couple of inns where travellers might be. They popped into the Talbot and asked the landlord if any messages had been left, but there was nothing. It was as though Julian had simply disappeared. Charlie led them through more small streets until they were heading down the road towards the harbour that nestled beneath the massive cliff on which the ruin of a castle stood. It was quite dramatic, and Harry could see that either the boats or the castle might appeal to a small boy.
“Can you get up there?” Harry asked nodding towards the castle.
“Yes. The militia are stationed there.”
“He might have wanted to look at the castle?”
Charlie frowned. “If he has any sense he will be hiding and not exploring.”
Harry nodded. “The carriage would have arrived last night. He had some money for food, but I can’t imagine where he would have stayed.” The thought of him spending the night out in the freezing cold worried him. “He’s small,” Harry added.
“I’m just worried that Mosely got here before us,” Charlie said as he stepped around a huge pile of rope and fishing pots. The sound of seagulls was deafening as they screeched about the bay, adding to the cacophony of sound that the waves made crashing on the beach. By the boats and pots the smell of fish almost overwhelming. Charlie stood with his hands on his hips, staring around as though willing Julian to jump out at them. He sighed.
“Perhaps he went to look at the dippers.”
“What are dippers?”
Charlie smiled a little. “In the better weather people come to the Spa House and bathe in the sea. The men just dive in naked and swim, but the women go the strangest lengths to get ready, using little huts.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Naked men?”
“Indeed,” Charlie laughed.
“Surely not at this time of year?” Harry grimaced and cupped his hands over his groin.
Charlie actually laughed at that and it was good to hear. “No doubt.”
“I like it here,” Harry said and was surprised to realise that he did. “Do you think I will find work?”
“Not the best time of year,” Charlie said as they set off walking along the seafront in the direction of the Spa House. “During the summer the place gets busy with people coming to take the water and bathe in the sea so there might be work then. At the moment, probably not as much.”
Harry refused to be daunted. “I’ll find something. I’ve worked at most things so I can turn my hand to pretty much anything. I’m pretty versatile.” He slid a sideways glance at Charlie and grinned. “You should take a house here. You could come and see me. Save you going to London.”
Charlie stopped walking, making Harry stop and turn to face him. Charlie was looking horrified.
“What?”
“I don’t…you expect…”
Despite the cold Harry went hot all over and he felt the colour explode in his cheeks. Charlie didn’t need to say more.
“Well, I know I haven’t done anything to make you think highly of me but, Christ, Charlie, if you think that I would do that, your opinion of me is lower than I thought.” He put a gloved hand to his chest where his heart physically hurt.
Charlie stared at him for a moment and then went to take his arm, but then let it go quickly but he stood close.
“Harry…I’m sorry…I…” He shut his mouth and closed his eyes, brows drawn down. He took a breath and opened his eyes. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean…It was a stupid, horrible thing to think.”
“I’ll say.” Harry tucked his hands into his pockets and carried on walking. Charlie followed in silence for a while.
“Let’s try up here,” he said pointing.
Harry looked at him and nodded. He couldn’t help feeling stupid for thinking that Charlie might want anything to do with him after they had found Julian. Stupid for thinking that he might be able to see past what he had done. Once a whore always a whore, apparently. They walked up a narrow path that brought them onto a lane that ran parallel with the coast.
“See that inn?” Charlie said. Harry nodded. “It’s hundreds of years old and rumour has it that it has hidden pathways to the sea that smugglers use.”
Harry felt himself smile. “Really?”
“So I’m told.”
They walked a little farther, but the path was littered and filthy, so they took a turn down by some fishing boats and climbed over the ropes and jumped down. As he did so, an oilcloth at his feet moved and a small, battered face appeared.
Harry’s breath caught in his throat. “Julian?” he whispered.
The boy tried to sit up but fell back. His eyes were wide and immediately they filled with tears. “Harry!” he whispered. “Oh, Harry, you came.”
Harry sank to his knees and pulled the old oilcloth off him.
“He’s here,” Julian whispered, clutching at Harry’s arm, eyes wide and terrified. “Mosely, he’s here.”
Chapter 14
Charles’ skin tightened with horror as Harry lifted the boy who was now sobbing weakly. When Charles moved closer, the child cringed against Harry.
“Hush now,” Harry whispered to him. “Hush now, this is Charlie. He’s been helping me to find you.”
The child peeped out and Charles tried to give him a reassuring smile.
Harry kissed the top of the boy’s head. “Charlie shot Bill Mosely in the arm.”
The child looked up at Harry and then at Charlie and scrubbed at his nose with his sleeve. “He had a sling. Did you do that?”
Charles nodded with a smile. He wasn’t sure he could speak.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and fed.” Harry set off walking with the boy in his arms. “Why didn’t you leave a message at the inn?”
“Mosely was waiting for the carriage. It got held up because of the awful weather. We were supposed to get here yesterday, but it only arrived a little while ago.” Julian rubbed his eyes. “When they threw you off the driver decided to stop overnight because the snow was so bad. As we drew in this morning, I spotted him. Honestly, Harry I couldn’t believe it. I jumped off the back and ran as fast as I could. I didn’t dare go in anywhere, and then…” his voice wobbled. “I was robbed. They took all the money you gave me, Harry. I’m so sorry, so sorry, we don’t have anything now.”
“Don’t worry about the money,” Harry said. “Is that all they took?”
Julian nodded, much to Harry’s relief.
“But it was all you had. You gave it to me, trusted me with it and I lost it.” The boy was weeping again.
“Shh, don’t cry. Charlie helped me. He paid my debt to Dante and helped me get here. We have rooms at the inn, it’s warm and there is food…”
“Really?” The boy peered around to look at Charlie.
“Really,” Harry said. “We only have yours to pay off now and when that is done, we are free. Completely free. We can live here; I will find work soon.”
“I can work, too,” the child interrupted. “I can work with the fishermen.”
* * * *
Charles felt a curious sense of isolation. As though he had been discounted now, and as the two of them planned their future, he was amazed to realise that the feeling was jealousy. He was
jealous of the bond that the two of them had, of the plans they made together, of the life that they might have. Horrified, he shoved the feeling aside.
“Might I interject?” he said walking alongside.
“Of course,” Harry said with a smile. “Interject away.”
Charles rolled his eyes. “We may need to clean young Julian up a little before taking him to the inn, he looks like a ragamuffin. When we get there, I will arrange for him to have a bed in your room.”
Harry peered down his chest at the boy and laughed. “He’s right. Come on.”
They found a wall and sat Julian on it whilst Charles fished out a handkerchief and a comb from his pocket. He dipped the handkerchief in some water that had collected in an upturned bucket and applied it to Julian’s hands and face. They dusted off his clothes as best they could and combed his hair. Nothing could disguise the bruising on his face though, or removed the pinched, hungry look. He also found it quite hard to stand without his legs buckling. A combination of hunger, fear, and exhaustion coupled with a severe beating had debilitated the child.
“We need a story,” Charles said. Harry nodded. “Julian, do you have family?”
Julian’s gaze dropped to his lap. “No.”
“Very well.” Charles thought for a moment. “I am your guardian and you ran away?” he suggested, looking at Harry.
“Why did I run away?” the child asked. Charles frowned.
“You didn’t want to go to school?” Harry chipped in.
Charles shook his head. “The schools are on holiday.”
All three stared at one another. Harry grinned. “Come on, Charlie, you’re the book writer. Think of a story.”
Julian’s eyes widened. “You write books?”
Harry clapped Julian on the back and laughed. “He does. Adventures, too.”
Julian smiled. For the first time since they had picked him up the boy smiled. Charlie smiled back. “Very well.” He put his hands on his hips and thought for a moment. “Julian’s parents died in a tragic accident and he came to live with me as his guardian. His father was a close friend of mine in the army, but Julian has never met me before and didn’t want to come and live with me. Stricken with grief, he escaped my house and managed to get as far as Scarborough, but fell into the hands of footpads and was robbed and left for dead. I am filled with remorse for not caring for him better, so I followed him, calling on my…secretary, Harry, to find him and persuade him to come home and to promise to be a better guardian to him.”
Harry doubled over laughing and Julian clapped his hands in delight.
Charles couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “If we tell the people at the inn, they will be overcome with sympathy at our plight. I shall be the villain, but I will be dreadfully remorseful.”
The merriment lasted a moment or two until Harry’s face fell.
“What is it?” Charles asked.
Harry tried to regain his smile, but failed. “It’s a brilliant tale, but…it wouldn’t really work.”
“Why ever not?”
Harry looked away. “How would we explain that you were going home and leaving us here?”
Silence ticked between them for several moments and Charlie’s heart pounded in his chest. “I…” he began but they were interrupted by a chillingly familiar voice.
* * * *
Harry jumped at the sound and whirled around. Charlie moved to stand in front of him and Julian in such a protective movement that Harry’s heart swelled despite the fear that gripped him.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t all three dirty little shitten pricks,” Mosely said. Harry’s skin crawled and fury bloomed in his gut.
“No idea why you are calling names, Mosely,” he said, stepping out from behind Charlie. “You never complained when you bent over and took it.”
“I’ve never been touched a man in my fucking life!” Mosely spat.
Harry’s mouth ran away with him. “No, you like children.”
“Bastard!” Mosely sprang forward, but with one arm in a sling he was seriously hampered. Charlie stepped forward, intercepted him, and felled him with an incredibly effective smack to the jaw. The other two stood back, wary of what Charlie might do next, no doubt. Mosely, however, had no such sense. He staggered to his feet and rushed towards Harry, dragging a knife from his pocket as he did so, but Charlie kicked his hand, sending the knife spinning, and then launched at him with another savage blow to his jaw that sent him back to the ground. This time, though, Charlie followed him down and, sitting on his chest, pinned him, and hit him again and again until Harry clamped his arms around him and dragged him off.
“Enough, enough…” he crooned in Charlie’s ear. Charlie struggled until Harry let go, but he got to his feet, glaring at the man with the bloody face grovelling on the ground.
Charlie’s nostrils flared. “Bastard. He doesn’t deserve to live.”
“I know,” Harry said holding out a hand towards him. Mosely’s cronies were long gone, leaving just him, Charlie, and a stunned Julian. The sound of running footsteps broke them apart as two fishermen ran towards them.
“Are you hurt?” One of them bent to look at Mosely, whilst the other laid a hand on Charlie’s arm.
Charlie shook his head as he shook out his hand and then stuck it under his armpit. “Thank you, but no, I am unharmed. This man robbed my ward and attempted to do the same with us.” He gestured at Harry and Julian.
“He’s out for a bit. I’ll get the magistrate,” the man kneeling on the ground beside the now unconscious Mosely said.
“Don’t think he’s going to thank us for that. He’ll be eating goose with the family.”
“True. Might be best if we just throw him in the gaol and make him wait a bit.”
“Can you do that?” Harry said.
“Most certainly,” the older of the two men said.
“It’s where he belongs,” Charlie said and held out his hand. “Farrington. Captain Farrington. Pleased to meet you. This is my ward, Julian, and my cousin, Harry Valentine.” He gestured to Harry and Julian and Harry’s mouth hung open. They had agreed that this wouldn’t work. They all shook hands. It was decided that gaol was definitely the best place for Mosely, and one of the men disappeared and then came back with a cart. They loaded Mosely onto it and waved as the two men towed him away.
Harry looked at Charlie who was sucking his knuckles. “Sore?”
“Bloody hard-headed bastard,” Charlie said, and then grimaced when Julian laughed.
“What now?” Harry said.
“Well, I think Mosely may find himself incarcerated long enough for us to be away. The magistrate will not welcome an interruption to his Christmas, so we might have a little time. What about the other two?”
Harry shook his head. “I don’t really know them. Do you?” he said to Julian. Julian shook his head. “I suspect that without Mosely leading them they won’t tackle us.” Harry grinned. “Or more specifically, they won’t tackle you.”
Charlie nodded. “In that case, we should go back to the inn and have something to eat. We can then decide what would be best.”
They walked together, the silence only broken by the sound of the seagulls crying overhead. The sun had come out and the church bells were ringing.
“Charlie?” Harry began.
“Not now.”
Harry subsided. Julian was looking decidedly wobbly and Charlie had set a brisk pace.
“Here, hop up,” Harry said, gesturing for Julian to climb on his back. He settled the boy’s arms around his neck and hitched an arm under each of his legs and carried him. Charlie slowed a little.
* * * *
In the end the innkeeper required very little explanation about Julian. He had a bed made up for him in Harry’s room, and pocketed the extra money without comment. Harry helped him to wash and bathe his wounds.
“What are we going to do, Harry?” the boy asked as Harry rubbed him vigorously with a towel.
“I don’t know. I need to speak to Charlie.”
Julian slid into the nightshirt that Harry had given him. “Are you two lovers?”
Harry sighed. “You shouldn’t know about things like that. You’re too young.”
“Maybe, but I do and he looks at you like you’re his whole world.”
Harry paused and then handed Julian a comb. “Really?”
“Yes.” Julian dragged his hair neat. “Same way you look at him.”
Harry sank onto the bed. “He’s…I’ve never met anyone like him in my life. He is…” Harry shook his head. “I don’t want to leave him.” He looked down at his hands, the truth of the statement made his chest hurt.
“Then you’d better tell him that,” Julian said. “Can we eat now?”
* * * *
Charles knocked on the door of Harry’s room as the waitress stood beside him, holding a huge tray of food. Harry opened it and let them in. Julian was seated on the bed in an enormous nightshirt looking much better than he had earlier. They all waited until the girl had put down the three plates of mutton pie and a huge plate of twelfth night cake and cheese. The door closed and Charlie let go of a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.
“How are you feeling?” he said to Julian.
“Much better. Thank you, Captain Farrington,” he said.
“Call me…” He hesitated a moment and then smiled. “Call me Charlie.”
All three of them fell on the food as though they hadn’t eaten for months and drained the mugs of ale that came with it.
“You must be getting tired of fruit cake and cheese,” Charles said with a smile. He’d fed Harry endless amounts of the stuff.
“Never,” Harry said on a groan. “Love it”
Charles smiled scooped up some remaining crumbs. Julian sat watching them both.
“I didn’t know you were a captain,” Harry said.
“Didn’t I mention it?”
“No. I did wonder if you were a general or something though when you shot Mosely and knifed the other.”
Charles laughed. “Not a general, but I did do a lot of unarmed fighting. I learned to look out for myself and because I am quiet people tend to make the mistake of underestimating me.” He gave Harry a small smile.
