Shoddy Prince

by Sheelagh Kelly

  Nat knew that he was hurting her but he could not stop now. His thrusting gathered momentum. He hurled himself at the resistant flesh until he finally exploded with a violence that seemed to drain him of everything he had. He sagged in a heap on top of her, and lay there rising and falling in time to her own breathless panting.

  Bright stared over his shoulder into the night. What had they done? The act was of such enormity it must change their lives, change everything about them. She wanted to cry but tears would not come.

  Nat moved, then rolled off her, not looking into her face. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t help it.’

  Bright lay in the same position. The part between her legs felt raw but she could not move, could not speak.

  ‘I love you.’ Nat dared to face her then. He put his hand on her and kissed her cheek. The action helped to ease her paralysis. She turned over to face him. It hurt to move. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms round her. She wanted to ask all sorts of questions – what did you do to me? What will come of it? – but was too afraid. She lay in his arms, enjoying his kisses, his embrace and his smell.

  Soon, though, he pressed her onto her back and tried to impale her again. This time she heard a voice, her own, whisper, ‘Don’t, please don’t. It hurts.’

  He fell back immediately. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I love you. It’ll be better next time.’

  She whispered through her pain and embarrassment that she loved him too. ‘I’ll have to be getting back to bed.’

  ‘Don’t go yet.’ He kissed her pleadingly. ‘I promise I won’t do anything. Just let me cuddle you. I love you.’ And he meant it.

  It was almost three in the morning when, bruised but joyous, she crept back to her shared bed, unable to sleep through exhilaration and fear. Nat fell asleep immediately.

  * * *

  Bright’s blushes were spared the next morning. When she came down to breakfast Nat had already gone out. Half of her was glad, the other half ached to see him. At the table she kept her head down, sure that everyone could see the difference in her. There had been some panic when on rising she had seen the smudge of blood on her nightgown and felt more of it trickle from her. She had put her coat over it and rushed down to the privy before her sisters were half awake, but when she had got there she had seen it wasn’t blood, just a sticky wetness. Still, it was no comfort, for she must be damaged inside to remain so tender.

  ‘Are you ailing for something?’ asked her mother, startling her. ‘Picking at your food like that.’

  ‘She must have a sweetheart tucked away,’ put forth Eilleen, drawing more blood to the young one’s cheeks.

  Mr Maguire said jokingly, ‘If I find out who it was I’ll cut the fellow’s heart out. To be sure I’m her only sweetheart, aren’t I, darlin’?’ Bright gave a smiling nod and wondered how long it would be before her guilt was exposed.

  She mooned over Nat all that day whilst ostensibly teaching her class, wishing school was over and she could be with him. But once home, she found it hard even to look at him, afraid that he had changed his mind. To her relief when their eyes met by chance she saw the light of affection in them and squirmed with happiness. After tea she volunteered to wash up on her own. Nat said he would help, but once in the scullery he started to kiss and touch her. Bright tried to fend him off and hissed, ‘Don’t be so indecent!’ But she cherished his fumblings all the same.

  ‘Are you coming down to see me tonight?’ His arms linked her waist, preventing her escape.

  ‘I daren’t.’ His kisses were lovely, but Bright didn’t want to risk that happening again, whatever it was.

  ‘Please,’ he crooned in her ear. ‘I love you.’

  ‘Our Eilleen nearly woke up when I got back into bed last night.’ Why did she have to lie to protect herself, why not just say no?

  ‘Go on. Please, Bright.’ He nuzzled her. ‘Please.’

  ‘You promise you won’t… you won’t do that again.’ Surely it couldn’t be healthy for her heart to keep thudding like this.

  Nat mouthed her neck. ‘I promise.’ He felt himself inside her already. He had been thinking of it all day – walking down the street, eating his dinner, collecting his scrap iron, he had thought of nothing else. He had looked at youths his own age playing daft games and thought, what babies. He’d never be able to do without it now. He’d just die if she wouldn’t let him. He wanted to do it this instant…

  Someone touched the doorhandle. Both youngsters leaped apart, Nat to the far end of the scullery, Bright to the sink, as a grave Mr Maguire put his head into the kitchen. ‘Nat, will ye come out here, please.’

  Bright, deep in industry over the stack of pots, raised her head in terror, prepared to be exposed, then swallowing the vomit in her throat followed Nat and her father to meet her punishment. On encountering the policeman however, she knew it was something entirely different.

  ‘Nathaniel Smellie, I’m arresting you for theft and wilful damage of property belonging to Mr Steven Scaum.’

  Smellie! Bright had almost wiped it from her mind. She hated the name as much as he did and had never told him that she had discovered it.

  The policeman was about to lead Nat away with little explanation. ‘Won’t you tell us the details at least?’ begged Mrs Maguire.

  The officer replied, ‘Yesterday afternoon a house belonging to Mr Scaum was broken into. A number of items were stolen. What the intruders did not steal they destroyed, including the family’s pets which were butchered quite mercilessly.’

  ‘Oh Nat!’ Mrs Maguire put her apron over her mouth. Bright felt sick – no wonder Nat had been unable to speak of it last night.

  ‘Just a minute, just a minute!’ her husband intervened. ‘Who said Nat did this?’

  ‘Mr Scaum gave us his name and address. As a matter of fact we’ve been wanting to question Master Smellie for some time about some missing horse tails, only we couldn’t trace him.’

  ‘What the devil have horse tails got to do with this?’ demanded Maguire.

  ‘This boy,’ the officer wagged a finger, ‘was taken in by a Mr Wood when he came out of Industrial School the last time. He repaid the gentleman’s kindness by running away. When he’d gone Mr Wood discovered that every one of his horses had had their tails docked.’

  ‘Wasn’t me,’ lied Nat, with a plausible expression.

  ‘Cut their own tails, did they?’

  ‘It wasn’t me, I tell you. Why do I always get the blame?’

  ‘Maybe because you’re always guilty,’ replied the constable.

  ‘Hey, now wait a minute!’ Mr Maguire pointed a finger. ‘A man’s innocent till proved guilty.’

  ‘Is that so?’ The officer appeared to be enlightened. ‘Well, whilst we’re on the subject of guilt you could be in trouble for harbouring a runaway.’

  ‘How would I know he’s a runaway?’ exclaimed Maguire. ‘And sure you fellas didn’t look for him very hard, he’s been here a twelvemonth.’ He shot a dark glance at his wife who cringed. ‘Did you know anything about this?’

  ‘Well, I did and I didn’t.’ Mrs Maguire looked nervous. ‘Nat told me he left the job at Leeds ’cause they were too unfriendly like.’

  ‘He said nothing to me!’ Maguire frowned upon the boy.

  ‘I think twas just that he was lonely, d’ye see,’ explained his wife. ‘He wanted to come back and live with his friends.’

  ‘Well, I’ve just had a glimpse of how Master Smellie treats his friends,’ said the officer, ‘and I can tell you I’ve never seen anything like it. Those poor damned birds – excuse me, missus!’ He apologized to Mrs Maguire, ‘but he ought to be flogged!’

  Bright thought the policeman took enjoyment from telling the Maguires about the carnage in the Scaums’ garden. She herself fought tears and Mrs Maguire seemed close to them.

  ‘Oh no, Nat wouldn’t do a thing like that,’ vouched the head of the house.

  ‘Mr Scaum seems to think he did, so I’ve no option but to take him in
. You’ll get prison for this,’ the officer told Nat.

  ‘Nat didn’t do it!’ Bright stepped forward and blushed when everyone turned to look at her. ‘But… I know who did.’

  ‘Don’t tell!’ warned Nat.

  ‘I have to.’

  ‘He’ll get me!’

  ‘Who’ll get you?’ demanded Mr Maguire. ‘Point him out, I’ll give him ten heads.’

  ‘Denzil Kneebone,’ said Bright.

  Nat collapsed inwardly as the name was issued. Pushed into a corner, he admitted that Denzil and his friends had been the main culprits and that he himself had run home before the others broke into the house. ‘They forced me to lead them there.’

  ‘You’re still an accomplice,’ said the policeman in disgust. ‘You stood there and watched him do that to those birds. You’re as bad as he is. What about the horse tails? It’s no good hanging your head, I know you did it!’

  ‘Sold ’em,’ mumbled Nat.

  ‘Who to?’

  ‘A marine dealer in Taddy – can’t remember his name.’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t matter, you’re the one who’s going down for it. A fine way to repay kindness!’ He led Nat away.

  Bright appealed to her father. ‘Daddy, don’t let them put Nat in prison!’

  Maguire performed a helpless gesture. ‘What can I do, pet?’

  ‘Ye could go to court with him!’ responded Bright. ‘Tell them it wasn’t Nat!’

  Tearing his smoky eyes away from her distressed face he followed the policeman and Nat to the door. ‘When will the case come up?’

  The officer shrugged. ‘It’s not for me to say, but it shouldn’t be long now we know all the parties involved. Call in at the station in a few days.’

  ‘I will.’ Mr Maguire struck his brow with the palm of his hand. ‘Though God knows that boy is more trouble than the six o’ mine put together.’ He addressed himself directly to Nat, at the same time indicating his daughter. ‘I hope you know that if it wasn’t for this one here I wouldn’t be putting meself to all this trouble. Haven’t I enough children of me own without looking after other people’s?’

  Nat bowed to the greater force as the officer shoved him out into the street. Mr Maguire, feeling sorry for the boy, called after him, ‘Oh, don’t worry yourself! I’ll be there when they take ye to court, saint that I am.’

  One by one the culprits were rounded up and appeared together at the Police Court. Denzil, positive that Nat had been the one to inform on them, barely took his eyes off him all the time they waited in the corridor. It was the first time Nat had seen Denzil’s parents. Both looked quite normal, law-abiding and very worried at the court appearance. It was hard to imagine from which of them the boy had inherited his mean streak. Spud was accompanied by his mother, who looked more like a grandmother, and Gunner was the image of his father; a great big brown-eyed softie. Nat himself was accompanied by Mr Maguire, the only one of the family present. Bright had not been allowed to come. Neither, obviously, had Noel. Mr Scaum was waiting in the corridor alone, hurling reproachful glances at his son’s erstwhile friend. Nat tried to avoid his eye and wondered briefly what Noel’s reaction had been to all this.

  The court heard that Nathaniel Smellie was a perpetual offender. Nat cringed as Denzil smirked at the name. Besides this latest dreadful episode he was also charged with the theft of five horse tails and absconding whilst under licence to the owner of said horses. A catalogue of his faults was presented to the listeners. Once this was over, Nat assumed the case was drawing to a close, for who would speak in his defence? Amazingly, one person was prepared to offer mitigation, and even more incredibly it was Mr Scaum who rose to his feet – though it was only due to the urgent behest of his son at the breakfast table that morning.

  ‘Your Worship, it may appear strange that I as the injured party am about to issue a word in defence of one of the culprits. Having only met Nathaniel Smellie quite recently I am not at all qualified to remark upon his past misdemeanours, but the boy has confided a great deal in my own son who has begged me to make his background known…’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ replied the Lord Mayor, presiding, ‘but we are in possession of the boy’s record.’

  Scaum persisted, ‘Then you must feel as do I that to have lost both one’s parents by the age of ten is significant reason to err from the path of righteousness. From the time of his mother’s death he has had no parental guidance—’

  ‘That’s a lie!’ Mr Maguire sprang up. ‘I treated that boy like my own son!’

  ‘Sit down! Sit down!’ The Lord Mayor called for order and the case proceeded to a low grumbling from the Irishman in the gallery. ‘Once again I thank you, Mr Scaum, for your most noble intervention on behalf of Smellie, though regretfully I must advise you that your plea is wasted on this ne’er do well. The court is well aware of his background and, I might also add, of the number of good people who have tried to help him, to no avail. So, let us waste no further time but proceed to the other miscreants.’

  In turn the backgrounds of the other culprits were dissected, theirs being somewhat briefer than Nat’s. Eventually, after much deliberation the Lord Mayor gave his verdict. ‘It is the opinion of this bench that Denzil Kneebone, however he may try to present himself as an innocent, is the chief offender here.’ Nat, who had resigned himself to being saddled with this dubious honour after the performance Denzil had put on, could not believe his luck. ‘He instigated the most wilful acts of violence against Mr Scaum’s property and livestock. We feel that his crime is far too heinous to warrant referral to anything less than reformatory and therefore we are sending him to such an institution for a period of three years.’

  Denzil looked impassive. His parents were distraught.

  ‘Nathaniel Smellie, you may not have been the main author of this crime but you were the one to lead the other boys to Mr Scaum’s home and by your presence there you are just as guilty. Since the age of ten you have been in and out of Industrial School and have shown not the slightest hint of reformation. Every effort to help you has been thrown back with ingratitude. You were found a good steady job with Mr Wood who treated you with the utmost charity. You were in his house barely twenty-four hours when you decided to rebuff his help. It was not enough for you to abscond whilst under licence, no, you augmented this crime by severing the tails of his horses, thereby reducing their value by five pounds each. Since that time who is to say what other questionable activities have taken place? I see no merit in sending you back to Industrial School where you have learned absolutely nothing…’ Nat almost wet himself; oh Christ, he was going to reformatory with Denzil! ‘However, one or two people, including your victim Mr Scaum, have spoken in mitigation. It is only on behalf of their pleas that I am going to give you one last chance to cure your recidivism. I shall return you to the custody of the officers at Marygate Industrial School for two years in the hope that by the time you are released you will have mended your ways. Otherwise, the next time you stand before me you will be sent to prison. Do I make myself understood?’

  Nat heaved a sigh in relief and delivered a simple, ‘Yes, sir.’ Relief brought a look of smugness to his lips as he glanced at Denzil, then waited to hear Spud and Gunner’s sentences. Both received terms at industrial schools, one at Leeds, the other at Halifax, in order to prevent their activities from continuing inside.

  ‘You are all obviously a bad influence on each other,’ rebuked the Lord Mayor. ‘Sergeant, take them down.’

  As all the boys were led away, Denzil lunged towards Nat. ‘I’ll fix you when I come out, Smellie!’

  10

  Noel expressed a desire to visit Nat, but his parents forbade it. ‘That boy has been a bad enough influence on you without teaching you the tricks he has undoubtedly learned in that place,’ reproved Mr Scaum, ‘though I hold myself partly to blame in assuming that at your age you could be trusted to behave in a responsible manner. Heaven knows what you’ve been up to, associating with those boys, coming ho
me at all hours, giggling like an imbecile… and you certainly haven’t been doing your homework! Your last school report was atrocious. I’m sorry, but there has been enough indolence, Noel, and now you must buckle down to some hard work if you’re to go into medicine.’

  Noel’s mother agreed. ‘You have just seen what happens to those who don’t have the benefit of a good education and parental guidance. Forget all about that character, my son.’

  ‘But Nat’s my friend,’ pleaded Noel. ‘He’ll think I’ve let him down. I must go.’

  ‘Out of the question!’ warned Mrs Scaum. ‘If you cannot find any decent chums then I shall find you some myself.’

  And Noel had to resign himself to the fact that he would never see Nat again.

  Bright was downhearted at the loss of Nat’s company too, though it was a deeper loss she felt than mere friendship. However would she stand the long absence? Two months had passed and still the heartache was unbearable. She could see the ache in Nat’s eyes too when she and her father had taken him Christmas gifts. Much as she desperately wanted to see him it had been a mistake to go, for the parting afterwards had been just dreadful. The way Nat had followed her to the door with his eyes made her fear that he might try to escape.