by Val Wood
‘Aye. Well it was once a lady’s, many years ago. My lady’s. She gave it to me one winter when she got a new ’un. But it’s as good as new. Cloth like that doesn’t wear out.’ She sighed, ‘and tha might as well have use of it now, it’s cold down by ’river at night.’
Annie thanked her profusely. She guessed that Mrs Trott’s pride and antagonism had softened considerably since their talk earlier in the day.
Toby opened the door. ‘Come on, Annie. Let’s go.’ He nodded to Mrs Trott. ‘We’ll only explore the river bank tonight. Nothing more. A reconnoitre only, to make sure all is ready.’
He took Annie’s hand as they crossed the paddock. ‘I don’t go near the haven when Mr Trott is on duty. I wouldn’t want him to become involved. He’s as honest as the day is long, but who would believe him if I should be caught, knowing as everyone does, that he is a friend of mine?’
‘But I saw thee,’ Annie began. ‘That first day.’
‘Yes.’ He stopped close to the hedge. ‘But that was just a game that night, to find out if the watchman was aware of us. There were two of us but you only saw me. And the watchman didn’t see either of us.’
He put two fingers to his lips and gave a low piercing whistle and Annie heard a muffled clomp. She gasped as in the darkness a large shape appeared in front of them and she smelt the warm breath of an animal close to her face.
‘Aagh.’ In fright she clung to Toby. ‘What devil’s this?’
‘No devil. This is my faithful Sorrel. Have you ridden before, Annie?’
‘Ridden? On a horse? No never. I can’t. I’d be afeeard to.’ The animal snuffled up to her and whinnied softly and she backed away.
‘Well you’re going to have to learn because we haven’t the time to walk.’ He put his foot in the stirrup and heaved himself up. ‘Come on, give me your hand.’
‘I can’t. I can’t. He’s too big, I’ll tummel off.’ She flinched and fell against the hedge.
He loosened his foot from the stirrup and leant down towards her. He seemed to be at a great height above her. ‘Put your foot in the stirrup and give me your hand,’ he demanded. ‘We can’t stay here all night. Just do as I say.’
Awkwardly she lifted her leg and tried to put her foot in as he commanded, but she hopped and hopped and finally fell on her back onto the path and she was glad of the darkness as her skirt flew up over her knees.
‘Please, Annie. Show a little sense. Put your foot in the stirrup. Take hold of the saddle with one hand, and give me the other. That’s it. Now jump.’
She felt herself fly through the air and somehow or other land on the horse’s back behind Toby. She clung to him desperately. ‘Tha won’t let him gallop, will tha? Not ’till I get used to ’feel of it.’
Beneath her arms as she clung to him, she felt his body shake with suppressed laughter. Finally he could contain himself no longer and gave a great guffaw. ‘Oh Annie, what a tonic you are. You make me laugh so.’
She grunted. She felt as if the breath was being shaken out of her body as the horse at a soft command moved forward in a firm trot. ‘I’m glad I’m making somebody happy,’ she gasped. ‘It’ll be ’first time ever.’
With her eyes shut tight and her head hunched down, she hung on for dear life as they moved swiftly over rough terrain. Then as the hooves made a different crunching sound, she cautiously opened her eyes and saw that they were riding along the foreshore of the river with the water breaking over the horse’s hooves.
‘Where ’we going? Is it far? All me bones is breaking.’
‘Ssh. Speak in whispers. Voices carry out here. They’ll hear you over in Lincolnshire.’ He turned in the saddle towards her. ‘Are you all right? Try to get the feel of him. Ride with him, not against him. We’re going up to Ferriby and maybe beyond. We’ll ride on the shore as far as we can, then turn across country again.’
‘Tha’ll have to watch ’tide,’ she whispered. ‘We could get swept away. Hast tha seen ’strength of ’waves?’
‘Yes, I have, but don’t worry, it’s low water tonight.’
The sky was light though there was no moon showing and in the distance she could see the shadowy spire of a church. As they drew nearer towards it, Toby suddenly wheeled the horse’s head to the right and with a swift leap they took the bank.
‘Hold on,’ he said in a hoarse whisper, and again a leap and another, and they cleared a hedge and a ditch and cantered into pasture land.
He reined in after a while. ‘We’ll have to walk for a bit. We’re going to head back towards the river but it’s too muddy to ride, and with two of us on his back the prints will be deep.’
Annie thought she would never walk again. The muscles in her stomach and buttocks were stretched with pain and her thighs were burning as if they were on fire. She stumbled after Toby. ‘Wait. Wait. Don’t leave me. I’m crippled.’ She could barely talk, all the breath had been pummelled from her.
But if she was expecting sympathy there was none forthcoming. Toby put his hand up in warning. ‘Be quiet.’
She put her hand to her mouth. She suddenly felt frightened. She shivered. She also felt wet. Her boots were squelching. She shuffled her feet and felt the mud oozing beneath them.
‘Toby,’ she whispered. ‘Me feet are wet. Are we—?’
He put his hand over her mouth. ‘I said be quiet. There’s someone down there.’
He’d been leading the horse by its reins but now he put them into Annie’s hands. ‘Don’t move,’ he said. ‘Stay right there until I come back.’
She was terrified. Not of the unseen presence somewhere below the bushes where Toby had disappeared, but of the snuffling horse who kept nudging her with his big head, his warm breath on the back of her neck, and his great hooves trampling on her feet. She tried to move away, to hold him at a long rein’s length, but each time she moved he followed her, his large teeth nuzzling her hair.
‘Oh, Toby, hurry up,’ she muttered. ‘What’s tha doing?’ She strained her ears to catch any sound. She could hear the ripple of water and a rustle in the reeds as the breeze ran through them, and guessed that they were near a creek or a stream; she didn’t think that they were yet on the river-bank, as the rush of tidal waters would have been stronger, more vibrant in its impetuous flow.
She ducked her head as a snipe suddenly flew into zigzag flight above her, a dark shadow that flew high and then dived, the wind vibrating through its stiff tail feathers as it circled its invaded territory.
Sorrel pricked his ears and whinnied softly as he caught his master’s voice. There was a murmur and a drift of laughter, and then a low whistle. Sorrel moved off at the command, pulling Annie in his wake slipping and slithering on the wet grass as she tried to keep tight hold of his reins.
Toby’s head and shoulders appeared at her feet out of the darkness of the bank and he jumped up to join her. He took the reins from her and fastened them to a scrubby bush and patted Sorrel on his neck, speaking softly into his ear.
‘Toby?’
‘Ssh. Don’t speak. Pull your hood over your head, and then follow me. Don’t say a word unless you really have to.’
He took hold of her hand and helped her down the bank to a narrow path, a mere foothold only, and they held on to the reeds as they made their way along the side of an overflowing creek. He put his fingers to his lips in warning and she saw in the darkness a shadow of a man. Someone whose height was no more than hers and who spoke to Toby in a husky whisper as they approached. The same person she assumed, who had been at the henhouse and whom she had mistakenly thought was Robin.
As her eyes became accustomed to the darkness she saw the square stern of a coggy boat tied to a spar which protruded from the water.
Toby nudged her. ‘Get in,’ he said in a low voice, and to the man, ‘thanks, tomorrow then, as arranged.’
Annie thought that the man looked towards her, but she put her head down so that the hood of the cloak dropped over her face as she stepped into the boat.
>
She smiled to herself. It had been a long time since she had been in such a boat. She felt the sway and roll of the water beneath her and thought of the times when she and the other children used to watch from beneath the piers of the Horse Staithe on market days, and wait for a boat to come in. When the occupants had unloaded themselves and their baskets and taken themselves off to market, they would climb into the boat and unfasten the painter, and row off down the river. They’d return after an hour and fasten it up again so that the owners never knew that their boat had been away on a very precarious voyage.
Then they would wait again for the next victim. Sometimes they would be lucky and find the owner’s dinner, maybe a hunk of bread or some fruit and they would sit in the middle of the river watching the town, seeing the hubbub of life from a different angle as they gorged themselves on stolen vittals.
‘Are you all right?’ Toby took an oar and pushed away from the bank. ‘I didn’t want the fellow back there to hear your voice. As you’re wearing Mrs Trott’s cloak, I’m hoping he thought you were her. The fewer people who know about you the better.’
‘Who was he?’
‘I told you, we don’t go in for names, though he knows mine, and Mrs Trott’s.’
‘So he could tell ’law of thee, but tha couldn’t tell of him? It seems a bit one-sided to me.’
‘He won’t tell of me. His supply would dry up and he has a nice little business going with a regular tub of geneva and a half anchor of rum, not to mention a parcel or two of tea and tobacco. No, he won’t give me away.’
‘So they can’t do ’run without thee?’
They slipped out of the creek into the river. Annie felt the swell dipping beneath her and watched as Toby now took both oars and rowed up river.
‘Me or my brother,’ Toby answered, pulling with long strong strokes. ‘And Matt wouldn’t risk a run with anyone else, he just wouldn’t trust anybody else. His life and liberty depends on me.’
‘Does he have his own ship? How is it he hasn’t been pressed?’ Annie was curious. The press-men were notorious on the seas, even going as far as boarding whalers, and with the threat of firearms they would try to press the crew, even those with exemption tickets, to join the navy.
Toby laughed. ‘He’s captain of his own ship and he’s had many a battle with the press-men, he’s even lost some of his crew, but so far he’s escaped them.’
‘He keeps weapons, then?’
‘Of course.’ Toby manouvered into another creek, so narrow and covered by reeds that Annie ducked as the tall reeds closed about her. ‘What seaman doesn’t these days?’
He shipped the oars and pulled on the reeds and Annie followed suit, feeling the sharpness of the stems cutting into her palms as she pulled.
‘There, that’s far enough. We’re well hidden, we’ll not be seen here.’ He pulled in and fastening the mooring rope securely to a tree stump, he climbed out. There was a nervous croak of a disturbed marsh hen somewhere in the reed bed.
‘Now what do we do?’ Annie asked as she stepped on to the bank. ‘How do we get back to thy hoss.’
‘We walk,’ Toby grinned. ‘How else?’
‘But we’ve come miles,’ she gasped. ‘Why did tha have to move ’boat?’
‘Questions, questions,’ he complained, grabbing hold of her hand and pulling her along. ‘You never stop asking questions.’
‘How else can I find out,’ she retorted, shaking him off. ‘Tha’s just brought me out on a wild-goose chase, and never explained owt.’
He smiled. ‘You’re right, of course. But I didn’t know when we came out, that we would have to move the boat. Not until we met the fellow back there. He told me that the soldiers have been patrolling that part of the river-bank. That’s why he was there, waiting for me. I’ve moved the boat up river to this creek because they can’t come down here on horseback; it’s too wet and marshy. They’ll only patrol the top road.’
‘Well that’s all right then, just so long as I know.’
She bent down and started to unfasten her bootlaces.
‘Annie! What are you doing?’
‘I’m taking me boots off,’ she said as she knotted the laces together and hung them around her neck. ‘This is onny pair I’ve got, and I’m not having ’em ruined wi’ all this walking.’
9
Toby called the next morning and said he was going to ride into Hull. ‘Do you want to come? See some of your old haunts?’
She felt sick at the thought. What if she saw her bairns? How could she not rush to them and hug them? How could she explain to them why she had run away, and why she couldn’t come back? And what if she saw Mrs Morton, Francis’s mother, that scheming, blaspheming, rough and raucous woman, who would whistle for the law if she as much as set eyes on her?
‘No. No. I can’t. I told thee. If them folks should see me—’
‘I’d protect you Annie.’
‘Aye, I’m sure tha would and I’m grateful. But they’d mark thee, Toby, and tha doesn’t want trouble wi’ likes o’ them. Not when tha needs to keep tha head down over this other business.’
Toby pursed his lips and considered. ‘You’re right of course. Who knows, they might be in a similar line of business, and they might try to get back at you through me. Some of them wouldn’t think twice about tipping off the Customs about someone else, if it meant immunity for themselves.’
She nodded. She didn’t like to lie to him about these fictitious villains, but she dare not, could not even think of, going back into Hull. ‘There’s a good deal of smuggling going on,’ she said. ‘Ships is coming in all ’time with stuff. Aye and taking it out. I heard tell of a ship bound for Denmark getting caught wi’ three tons of wool on board. So tha’s best sticking wi’ folks tha can trust out here, Toby, not dealing wi’ riff-raff in Hull.’
To her relief he agreed and set off, telling her that he would be back before dark and that she should be ready to move off as soon as he arrived.
Mr Trott caught her as she was feeding the hens. ‘Tha can come wi’ me up to common if tha wants,’ he said. ‘I just want to check on ’sheep, make sure they’re not taffled up in ’hedge bottom.’
Fortunately Mrs Trott came out as he was talking, and before Annie could think of a suitable reason why she shouldn’t go – for she had no wish at all to look at his sheep or grunting pigs – Mrs Trott shouted to him not to be taking Mrs Hope anywhere.
‘I need her here wi’ me. She might as well earn her keep while she’s here, not wasting her time out on marsh and waste.’
Mr Trott moved off glumly. ‘I just thought she might like to have a chat with some of ’other folk on ’common,’ he said. ‘There’s nobody to talk to down here.’
Annie heaved a sigh and followed Mrs Trott into the house, another invitation and she couldn’t accept either of them.
‘It’s best that nobody knows tha’s here. Folks’ talk and they might wonder why tha’s hanging around.’
She’s only concerned about Toby, Annie thought. She’s not really bothered about me.
The day hung long and dreary. She helped Mrs Trott and then wandered outside and down to the river. She felt restless and uneasy. Tha’s a fool, Annie, she told herself. Why is tha hanging around here? Tha could have been halfway to York by now, or even over in Lincolnshire if tha’d been brave enough.
Onny I’m not brave enough. She sat down on the shingle and stared at the water. Long-legged waders, redshanks and curlews, searched in the shallows, dipping deep in the mud with their long pointed bills for crustaceans and insects. I’ve got caught up with a fellow, that’s ’trouble. Why is it that I have? Even though there’s nowt in it, no love or passion or owt, it’s just as if I can’t manage on me own. But I will. Just as soon as I’ve had enough of this caper, then I’ll be off.
She looked up into the sky as a large flock of widgeon flew over. I’ll be as free as them birds flying up there. I’ll be behodden to nobody. But as she defiantly thought the words
, she knew in her soul that it wasn’t true. She knew that she needed the presence of others, that she hated being alone and that more than anything else, the things that she wanted most had always been denied her, to be loved and to be needed, and to belong.
When she put on the heavy cloak that night Mr Trott looked up curiously.
‘Where’s tha off to this time o’ night, Mrs Hope?’
‘I’m, – I’m just off to help Toby wi’ sorting his linens and stuff, so’s we’re ready for ’next trip. Don’t bother to wait up,’ she added. ‘I might be late.’
Mrs Trott nodded approvingly at the excuse and whispered that the door would be left unlocked for her return.
Her stomach churned with excitement and fear. I don’t know why I’m going. What use will I be? I wonder if I’ll meet Toby’s brother?
Toby was riding Sorrel and as Annie, this time, took only two attempts to clamber on the horse’s back, she mused that the bumpy ride would at least be preferable to walking all the way to the hidden creek.
‘We’ll make a horsewoman of you yet, Annie. Don’t you love the feel of it? The power and strength beneath you?’
She had to admit that the sensation was quite exhilarating as the wind rushed through her hair and the cloak billowed out behind her like a black sail, but she felt hampered by her long skirt and petticoats, and her bare legs and thighs were still sore from the last ride.
‘It must be easier wearing breeches,’ she panted into Toby’s ear.
‘But not the thing for a lady,’ he laughed, turning his head towards her. ‘You should really be riding side-saddle wearing an elegant riding habit and a feather in your hat.’
When they were half a mile off the creek, they halted, tied Sorrel to a tree hidden from the road, and traversed the remaining distance on foot. Annie had again come barefoot. She felt more comfortable without her boots, even though the marshy ground squelched between her toes.
‘Hull was very lively today,’ Toby whispered as they walked. ‘The soldiers from the garrison were patrolling the town. It seems they were expecting trouble. The price of flour has gone up yet again and the townspeople are in a terrible mood.’
