by Rebecca King
“I know, but he can recognise you too,” Simon protested.
“Yes, but I am Star Elite. Fully armed, sober, and able to work with my colleagues. Meldrew doesn’t stand a bloody chance, no matter how many jailers he has with him,” Charlie declared flatly.
The ruthless determination in his voice was enough to stave off any further objection Wally or Simon might have had.
They lapsed into disgruntled silence while the men from the Star Elite got themselves ready. Although the hour was late, Charlie knew that sleep was impossible. He wouldn’t rest because, now that he had managed to keep his life, he knew that he faced a battle for his future. A future that he knew must include his wife.
Once he was ready, he settled down at the table to wait.
Hetty stared at the shadows on the ceiling as she listened to shouts and whistles on the street below. The clip-clop of horses’ hooves sounded loud in the silence of the bedroom and, for the first time in her adult life, she was so frightened that she felt physically sick.
During the first couple of hours she had been in the tavern, she had listened to the sporadic calls outside, and prayed that they didn’t mean the convicts had been found.
Now, three hours later, she was becoming accustomed to the shouts and muted orders, and found relief in the knowledge that the jailers were still looking for the escaped convicts.
When Mabel snorted and turned over, Hetty looked at her friend through the darkness before she too turned over to stare blindly at the shutter that covered the window.
Inevitably, as they had done more and more over the last few days, her thoughts turned to Charlie. Now that she was alone, in the solitude of the midnight hour, she allowed herself to consider the enigma that he was.
The dimples that flashed in his cheeks when he smiled bespoke of a mischief that matched the twinkle in his beautiful grey eyes, and reminded her of a naughty boy who had done something he knew he shouldn’t. There was something about his quiet strength and calm demeanour that called to her. He was a man who was confident of his place in the world, and could be depended on in a time of crisis, but had not lost sight of the bounties that life could bring.
He was the kind of man that was difficult for anyone to forget.
If she was honest, she wasn’t sure what to make of the feelings she had for him. She was fairly confident that the ache in her heart was love, but then had no idea what love was, so had no way of knowing for definite. All she could do was think about how being near him made her feel; as though she was protected and cared for. The searing kiss he had scalded her with on his way to the gallows was something that still made her touch her lips in wonder and, once again, she felt her heart swell with something that felt distinctly like longing.
“Damn you, Cedric Meldrew,” she whispered into the darkness.
“Whasa?’” Mabel grumbled as she turned over once more.
“Nothing. Go back to sleep,” Hetty murmured.
She knew that she too should try to get some rest because tomorrow was likely to be a very busy day indeed, but her mind wouldn’t settle to anything other than the men who had escaped death today.
“Where are you now?” she whispered to Charlie whimsically.
Her only answer was a loud whistle blasted out directly beneath the window. Strangely, the sound continued to reassure her, for no other reason than it meant she had done her job well.
“Anything?” Marcus cursed when Barnaby shook his head.
“’Ere, what are you two doing out?” A jailer growled from the edge of the courtyard they were standing in. “Don’t you know everyone is supposed to stay inside?”
“We are going home,” Marcus replied.
“There shouldn’t be anyone out,” the man challenged with a frown.
“Is the town under curfew?” Barnaby grunted with his brows lifted. “It comes to something when a man can’t even drink his ale in peace.” He wondered if he was going to spend the night behind bars until the jailer shook his head.
“No, why?”
“Well, we don’t have any reason not to be out and about, now do we? I am only going to the bloody tavern for a drink before I am off to my bed. What’s wrong with that?” Barnaby grumbled.
“There are two convicts on the run,” the jailer declared dourly.
Barnaby and Marcus looked at each other.
“Well, it ain’t us,” Barnaby drawled challengingly as he patted the padding of his false girth. “So, unless you are going to arrest us for going home, I suggest you go about your business and leave us alone.”
He turned away with a grunt and pointedly ignored the jailer, who stood hesitantly in the gateway for a moment.
“What’s your name?” The jailer demanded.
“Jack,” Marcus replied. “Stone,” he added as he snuck a peek at the stone wall beside him.
“Arthur,” Barnaby growled as he threw his colleague a dark look. “Wallsby.”
He threw Marcus a warning look when his friend made a strange choking noise. “Can we go now, or are you going to keep us talking all night?”
The jailer stood back to allow them past, but watched them avidly as they made their way out of the courtyard, and ambled unconcernedly down the main street.
“Wallsby?” Marcus grinned.
“It was all I could come up with, alright?” Barnaby grumbled as he shook his head in disgust.
“We can’t knock on each tavern door and ask if anyone has seen them,” Marcus sighed several moments later once they had turned out of the road, and were away from the jailer’s watchful gaze. “There is nobody out and about yet though. We are a bit early.”
“Let’s find somewhere to rest and wait for daylight. As soon as this place starts to come alive, then we can move about a bit better,” Barnaby suggested.
There was a slightly defeated tone to his voice that didn’t sit well with either of them. However, they couldn’t conjure Hetty up before them, so had little choice but to wait for dawn to arrive unless they were going to start to ask the jailers if they had seen her.
They made their way across time in search of a better hiding place that was closer to the meeting point Hetty should have gone to yesterday. As they walked down each road, they scoured the area for any sign of the women.
It was damned frustrating, especially because the women could be right under their noses, and neither Marcus nor Barnaby would know it.
They nodded at Joshua, who ambled past them in the opposite direction. The slight shake of his head warned them both that he hadn’t seen any sign of their quarry either.
Given that it was too dark to see if anyone was following them, they made their way out to the meeting place and settled into the shadows so that they could study the area more closely.
Dawn was about an hour away when Hetty climbed wearily out of bed. She was still exhausted, and worried sick about her brother and Charlie.
Having spent most of the night tossing and turning, and listening to Mabel’s snores, it was a relief to be able to get moving again and have something other than her rather melancholic thoughts to focus on.
If I have to dig a tunnel and crawl out, then I am going to get out of this blasted place and never come back, she thought to herself as she quickly drew her shawl on and pulled back one of the shutters so she could peer out into the street outside.
Nothing moved. There were no whistles, or calls from the search parties; not even birds in the trees sang.
Hetty’s heart fell to her feet as she strained to hear any sound of the continued searches. To her consternation, she couldn’t hear anything other her own breathing.
Over the course of the night, she had grown so used to hearing the random calls and barking dogs that she couldn’t remember when they had stopped.
Had Charlie and Simon been caught? Her stomach dropped to her toes. She took a moment to rest her already cool head against the cold window frame. She sent a silent prayer heavenward that the men would remain safe, and tried to f
ind comfort in the silence, but it was difficult given that it was impossible to tell if the convicts had been caught, or the search area had just widened.
“Mabel,” she whispered. “Come on, it’s time to get up. It will be light soon and we need to get out of here.”
The urgency in her voice seemed to shatter the old woman’s slumber because Mabel suddenly snapped awake. Although she was evidently still half-asleep, she still heaved herself out of bed and began to look for her boots.
“I am coming dearie, keep your hair on,” Mabel grumbled around a wide yawn.
Hetty stood at the window and studied the road while she tried to decide what to do. If they went out onto the main road and walked in the direction they needed to go, they would have to pass the jail. It would be right under the noses of the jailers, and the most audacious thing she could do. Unfortunately, she had no choice now because she wasn’t familiar with the town enough to know if there was an alternative back route through the alleyways that meant they could stay out of sight.
The thought that she would be able to see Simon and Charlie again, in the flesh, with her own eyes, was more than enough to give her the strength and determination she needed to get through the next few hours. She turned to face the room, and Mabel, with renewed determination.
“Right, we are going to get out of here once and for all today,” she declared as she marched across the room, yanked open the door, and waved Mabel toward the hallway. “Let’s go.”
Mabel stared at her. “What’s come over you today?”
“I am not going to be cowed by Cedric Meldrew,” Hetty snapped. “That’s all.”
Before she could say anything else though, Mabel yanked her back into the room, then closed and locked the door.
“Let’s do something about that mop of yours before we go outside, shall we?” Mabel declared pointedly. “If you leave with your hair as it is, you will be spotted as soon as you appear in the doorway.”
Hetty opened her mouth to speak only to be shoved down into the rickety looking chair before the cold fireplace. She watched as Mabel scooped up a handful of ash out of the grate and dutifully leaned forward in the chair when Mabel ordered her to. Before Hetty could object, the old woman rubbed her soot laden hands through Hetty’s silken hair, rendering it absolutely filthy, and a completely different colour.
She wished she had a mirror so she could see the outcome for herself, but had to rely on Mabel’s satisfied nod instead.
“Pin it up and cover it with your shawl.” She waited only until Hetty did as instructed before she turned to the door. “Come on then, let’s go.”
Stunned, Hetty pushed cautiously at her hair and tried not to sneeze when a dust cloud appeared in front of her face. She hurried after her friend, positive that she now had a dirty face to go with her grubby hair, but was unwilling to stop in the tavern long enough to check.
As she stepped out onto the main street, the town had already begun to come to life. Dawn had only just started to chase the night away, and cast the buildings and empty streets into shadows of different hues.
Although it was still a little difficult to see, there was enough light to guide them without a lantern.
Hetty heaved a sigh of relief at being able to get on their way again, and hurried in the direction of Hemsley.
“Oh, Good Lord,” Mabel whispered as they turned the corner into the main street, and spotted the gallows still outside the jail.
They shared a look before they ducked their heads and hurried past the macabre structure.
“Keep going,” Mabel urged as they walked past the jail, and headed deeper into town.
“What do we do?” Hetty whispered as they turned the corner at the end of the road and saw a group of jailers walking toward them.
“Keep walking,” Mabel sighed. “We have got to go in that direction. We can’t go all the way around or we will get lost.”
“We have to pass them,” Hetty whispered.
“We can’t turn around and hurry away. That will look suspicious,” Mabel chided.
“’Ere, where are you two going?” One of the jailers suddenly called.
Hetty froze in mid-step, and turned wide eyes on the group of men as they walked toward her. She shared a look with Mabel, who suddenly looked wary.
“We are off to work,” Mabel replied. “We are going to be late if we don’t get a move on.”
Lost for words, Hetty nodded and ducked her head to move past them only for one of the jailers to block her path.
“Where do you work?” The man demanded suspiciously. He ducked his head so he could see Hetty’s face.
Hetty looked up at him and frowned. She didn’t know the town, so didn’t know any of the tavern names. Her mind raced. She looked askance at Mabel, but daren’t speak. It took all of her strength to keep her face as blank as possible while she waited to see what they were going to do.
“We work for the Sunderland’s across town. I am their housekeeper. This here is Dotty, their scullery maid. If we don’t go now we are going to get our wages docked,” Mabel warned darkly.
She grabbed Hetty’s elbow and shoved her roughly around the group of men. “Unless you are going to arrest us for going to work, you need to get out of our way and let us get on with it.”
This time, when they tried to resume their journey, the men let them pass. However, they remained where they were and watched the women walk down the road.
“We don’t look suspicious, do we?” Hetty whispered. “Why did they stop us?”
“We don’t look suspicious,” Mabel assured her. “They are just stopping everyone.”
“I hate this. I hate this. I hate this,” Hetty chanted quietly as they hurried away.
“Shut up,” Mabel growled. “Just keep walking. Stay calm. Keep quiet. Everything will be alright.”
When they turned out of the end of the road, Hetty took the opportunity to glance behind her. To her consternation the jailers were following them.
“Oh no, they are coming after us. What do we do now?” She glanced worriedly at Mabel, who looked equally as panicked, but neither of them stopped walking.
“We should have gotten out of town yesterday while there were lots of people around to hide in,” Hetty whispered harshly. “Why are they following us? Why us?”
She watched Mabel glance suspiciously at her hair, and sneezed.
“Please don’t do that again,’ Mabel moaned. “Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea after all,” she muttered.
“What?”
“Your hair colour is coming through the soot. When you move, a dust cloud settles over you.”
Hetty’s stomach flipped. She had never felt so helpless in all of her life. Not even yesterday, when she had done what she had to protect her husband and brother.
“Keep walking. Just keep walking.”
“Oi!”
“Keep walking,” Hetty whispered and locked arms with Mabel, whose step faltered as the sound of the order behind them.
“Oi! Wait up.”
The women looked at each other, but continued to walk.
“Don’t stop. Whatever you do, don’t stop,” Mabel growled.
They came to a main road that was becoming increasingly busier as the day began in earnest. A large brewers cart rumbled toward them, mere feet away. The sound of footsteps running up behind them made Hetty panic. She grabbed Mabel’s elbow in a firm hold as she studied the road in front of her in search of a way out of danger.
“Come on, run,” she cried suddenly. She didn’t stop to see if Mabel was going to comply. She dragged her friend behind the brewer’s cart, dangerously close to another cart right behind it.
“’Ere, watch out,” the driver cried as Mabel and Hetty dodged in front of his horses, and wove their way around the miller’s cart heading in the opposite direction as they raced down the opposite side of the road.
She glanced at Mabel, who struggled to keep the pace that Hetty had set. It was evident that the spe
ed they were going was far too much for the older woman and, in spite of the fact that everything within her screamed at her to run and keep running as fast as her legs could carry her; she slowed her pace to a fast walk.
“We have to get out of here,” Hetty gasped.
They needed to find somewhere - anywhere - they could hide out for a while until the jailers left the area. She glanced behind them but, to her horror, saw three jailers heading toward them, and three more on the other side of the road.
“This way,” Mabel gasped and hurried down a side alley. “I can remember going this way once before. I was a child mind but, if I am right, this back alley takes us out to the right side of town. We should be able to cut through it, and won’t have to double back and risk passing them again. If we can get to the river, we can find a way down the towpath to the fields. We are at least heading in the right direction.”
Hetty couldn’t argue. She had no idea where they were. If it wasn’t for Mabel, she would be hopelessly lost by now, or sitting in Derby jail awaiting a visit from Meldrew.
Relieved that the older woman was with her, Hetty kept quiet and followed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Charlie hefted the coal sack over his shoulder, and tried to appear nonchalant in spite of the tension that reverberated through him. Thankfully, the coal merchant was behind the house and didn’t see him. He kept his back toward the jailers as they ran past in pursuit of two women who were practically running in the opposite direction.
Although he had only briefly caught sight of their quarry, he felt fairly certain he knew who it was.
He frowned and watched the jailers disappear down an alleyway between two shops. He could only presume that the alley would come out at the back of the shops, and the women would appear beside him at any moment. If they were trying to avoid their pursuers, they had just succeeded in leading them in a large circle. That was fine; and would work, as long as the jailer’s didn’t double back on themselves.
A thrill of anticipation swept through him at the thought that there were two women the jailers were looking to speak to, and two women who he desperately needed to see with his own eyes.
