Shoddy Prince

by Sheelagh Kelly

  Nat ran the dog’s tasselled ear through his fingers and made the reluctant decision. ‘I’ll leave him here then.’ Roy had never really been his anyway.

  ‘You won’t leave him cause you’re not going!’

  ‘You just said you don’t want a son you can’t trust.’

  Anderson blustered. ‘I’m ready to give you one last chance if you do the right thing now.’

  Nat felt he had nothing to lose. ‘Will you pay me a wage for the work I do?’

  ‘I will not – that’s blackmail.’

  The youth replaced his hat and inserted his foot in the stirrup, the loaded pack clanking as he moved.

  ‘Dad-burn it, Nat, if you don’t get off that horse we’re finished! I don’t want no son who puts money above his parents!’

  You don’t want a son at all, thought Nat, leaning forward in the saddle and clicking the horse into motion, you just want to prove how Christian you are, that you can mould a poor unfortunate wastrel into a fine upstanding citizen, so’s you can say, look what I’ve done! Any boy would have sufficed.

  But all he offered in reply was, ‘I’m sorry,’ as his horse carried him towards the road.

  Anderson made a rush after him, setting the dog into a frenzy of barking. ‘Just wait on a minute! Those’re my tools you’ve got there! My supplies in that sack! I’m damned if I’ll let you rob me of anything more!’ He tried to grab Nat’s leg.

  Alarmed, for without supplies his expedition was doomed, Nat gave the buckskin a savage kick, narrowly missing Anderson’s head. The horse grunted and lunged into a canter. Anderson still pursued him. Jolting up and down in the saddle, tools clanking in his back pack, Nat flung a hasty apology over his shoulder. ‘I’ll pay you back when I’ve struck lucky! I promise!’ The gap widened between them.

  Crimson with indignation, Anderson gave up his futile chase. The dog stopped too, but continued to bound around him, yelping. ‘Don’t you come back! Don’t you dare come back!’ Fists still clenched, he wheeled towards the house and saw his wife at the bedroom window. In the acute silence that followed Nat’s departure he could hear her weeping.

  * * *

  Bright had been at the house in Fulford Road for almost a year when, faced with her inability to bear this loneliness, she began to look for another job. There was no physical search for she was hardly ever given time off unless she asked for it, and even then she was quizzed as to her destination and whom she was going to meet. Miss Bytheway seemed obsessed with the idea that Bright must be meeting a man and told her in no uncertain terms what would befall her. Consequently, Bright rarely asked for time off. Besides, where had she to go? She had no friends, nor family to visit. So the quest for a job with accommodation was confined to the front page of the Yorkshire Evening Press which she had to take up to bed with her at night, and over which she invariably fell asleep.

  The search was unproductive for quite a few days until the post of general servant was advertised. It was a live-in position – ideal – but how was she to ask for time off? The advertisement did not state any particular time of application, so she decided to make it a Sunday when she could tell Miss Bytheway that she was going to Mass.

  The house with the vacancy was rather too nearby for comfort, in Fulford itself, but she had to risk it. A maid answered the door. Bright’s face fell. ‘Oh, has the post already been taken?’

  The other smiled. ‘No, it’s my job you’ve come for. I’m leaving at the end of the month to get married.’ She told Bright to wait in the hall. ‘I’m not sure it’s a very good time to call. The mistress has just got back from church.’

  Bright said it was the only opportunity she had. The other sympathized and said she’d probably get more time off here. After asking her name, the maid disappeared. She was gone for some moments, then came back to usher Bright into a very elegant drawing room which was much more modern than Miss Bytheway’s. There was a woman present who said, ‘Maguire – is that an Irish name?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. My parents came from Ireland. I was born in York.’

  ‘Hm. Come and stand before me so that I may see you.’ The woman looked her up and down. ‘At whose residence are you employed at present?’

  ‘Well, I’m not sure ye’d know the lady, ma’am. I work for Miss Bytheway, she lives in St Oswald’s Terrace.’

  The other looked thoughtful. ‘Is that the eccentric woman?’ Bright smiled and said she supposed Miss Bytheway could appear rather odd to others. ‘Hmm, I’m not surprised you wish to leave. I’ve just seen her at church – a halfpenny she put in the collection plate! Show me your hands.’ Bright displayed them, having no qualms for she had scrubbed them most vigorously before coming here. All her apparel was befitting a Sunday visit to church. ‘Most presentable,’ commended the woman. ‘Very well, if Miss Bytheway will furnish you with references you may commence employment as soon as my present maid leaves. Speak to her to find out the exact date and ask her to show you your living quarters.’

  ‘Oh, I’m very grateful, ma’am!’ responded Bright, again admiring the room. ‘It’ll be lovely to work in such a house. There’s just one thing…’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I,’ Go on, say it! ‘I have a child. I’d expect to bring her with me if I worked for you.’

  ‘Out of the question! Why did you not tell me this before wasting my time?’ The woman rang for the maid who, having been waiting outside, entered almost immediately. ‘Green, show this person off the premises!’

  ‘I swear she’d be no trouble, ma’am!’ pleaded Bright. ‘She’s very quiet.’

  ‘That is immaterial! I would never condone a girl such as you setting foot in this house with or without your child. Please leave.’

  Bright gave up and left with the maid, who did not seem so friendly on the way out. This was to be her reception to every application she made. After ten similar rebuttals Bright resigned herself to spending the rest of her life at Miss Bytheway’s. That life was made even more uncomfortable when someone let the cat out of the bag about her job applications. Bright did not know who it was, it could just have been a casual acquaintance or a neighbour of Miss Bytheway’s, it didn’t really matter. What was real was that Miss Bytheway was terribly upset and furious that her charity had been so rebuffed.

  ‘No other person would have taken you in!’ she railed at Bright. ‘Indeed, you have had plenty of evidence of that lately, I’m sure, what with all your efforts to leave here thwarted. To think that I lowered myself! It’s quite obvious that you are unwed yet I took you in, you and your illegitimate child whom I treated like a member of my own family – you know how fond I am of her. It’s sheer jealousy that makes you want to rob me of her! You cannot stand the thought that I can give her more than you, that I care for her more than her own mother.’

  ‘No, you could never do that,’ whispered Bright.

  ‘Don’t be impertinent! You have not the faintest idea of how to be a mother, you are only a child yourself.’

  But you didn’t go through the pain – Bright confined her obstinacy to her thoughts – you have no idea what I’d go through for Oriel. She’s the only reason I’m putting up with this, because if I left here we’d have nowhere to go.

  ‘Pray tell me why you chose to be so churlish?’ The old lady’s hands plucked at her handkerchief. ‘Have you not everything you need here?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am, except that I earn no money.’

  ‘Ah! So that is the nub. Not content with being clothed, housed and fed, you expect me to give you money too!’

  I’ve upset her now, thought Bright, I might as well go the whole hog. ‘I think I deserve a little wage, ma’am. I do a lot of work.’

  ‘You also do a lot of eating! Why on earth do you need money when all your needs are catered for?’

  ‘Oriel is only tiny now, but when she’s grown she’ll need clothes.’

  ‘Which I will provide,’ countered Miss Bytheway.

  ‘With respect,’ a trembling Bright stood
up to her employer, ‘Oriel is my daughter and I should be responsible for her needs. I – I’d also like to have more time to look after her, but you seem to think I don’t care about that.’

  ‘Of course you don’t care! If you cared about her welfare you would never have had her in the first place! You had condemned that child to a life of misery until I stepped in and saved her – saved you both! I think you have forgotten that it was I who took you from the asylum, and could just as easily put you back there if I so choose.’

  Terror prickled Bright’s skin. ‘I’m truly grateful that you gave me a home and food and work!’ She wondered how she could manage to keep her voice level after such insults. ‘All I’m asking is for a few shillings so I can be responsible for my own child, and to be allowed to see her more often.’

  ‘And you imagined that another employer would grant you more time with her than I do?’

  Bright hung her head. ‘None of them seemed to even want her in the house, nor me.’

  ‘You consider that surprising?’ Miss Bytheway stood erect, her black bow quivering with indignation. ‘Then consider this: if you had succeeded in finding another post you would have ruined that child’s life completely and I shall tell you why. If by some chance Oriel was received into any other household she would be scorned, she would receive little education, when grown to adulthood she would be employed at the lowest grade of work. On the other hand, if she continues to live here I shall endeavour to teach her manners, how to speak correctly, I shall educate her myself – no school for her, where she would be reviled for her mother’s sin! In short, I will protect her. She will never learn the slur of illegitimacy in this house. She will be cherished. That is what you were about to throw away, Maguire. That is what sort of a mother you are. Now, do you still wish to leave?’ Bright had no option but to shake her head. ‘Then we shall say no more about it.’ Miss Bytheway lifted her head at the sound of a wail. ‘That, I think, is Oriel telling us she is hungry. You have work to catch up with. I shall go and attend to her.’

  The white-haired lady turned at the door, still looking annoyed. ‘However, you are obviously under the impression that you have been mistreated here.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Bright wondered why she had negated this when it was quite obvious that she was being exploited.

  ‘I cannot have you harbouring feelings of bitterness against me, it will make your work suffer and we shall all be unhappy. Therefore, in addition to one florin per week, you will receive Sundays off. I may require you to light the fire and prepare breakfast but that will be all. The time will not be for frittering away, you may go to church in the morning and spend the afternoon in some useful pursuit such as reading or taking your daughter out for fresh air.’ With this, the woman made a dignified exit, leaving a gawking Bright to marvel at her own powers of persuasion.

  15

  Nat waited several hours for Rymer at the appointed place before concluding that he was not coming. Having thought to his own safety, he built a campfire, then decided to bed down for the night, mulling over what to do. The plan had been to head north for Edmonton where they would re-equip with supplies before going on to the Yukon, but Nat had no money. Rymer had promised to bring what he had saved in return for Nat supplying tools and food. The other had also been in possession of a map and compass. It may be difficult to proceed without these but, daunted or not, Nat had little option. Maybe when he reached Edmonton he could sell the horse and buy what he needed in order to reach the Klondike goldfields. If Rymer turned up before morning, all well and good, but Nat was not going to let his absence ruin this chance of riches.

  Having made his decision, he rolled nearer to the fire and tried to sleep, cursing Rymer and thinking of Uncle John’s anger. Even for one who scorned company it was nerve-racking to be alone out here, with eyes peering at you out of the gloomy whispering forest and the bloodcurdling howl of wolves. With each rustle of leaf he imagined a grizzly exploding from the bushes to grab him by the throat. The image became all too real. He struggled to remove himself from the ripping jaws and moved nearer to the glow of his fire. Keep calm. Uncle John told you, if one comes you just stay still and play dead and he’ll go away. His horse whickered and snorted. Nat sat upright to listen, flesh crawling. The constant whirr of crickets made it difficult to hear whether something was sneaking up on him. His ears strained. Fool! Stop it, there’s nothing there. He lay down and closed his eyes, whereupon a manic figure came screaming at him out of the night: ‘Waaaagh!’

  Nat leaped up with a terrified yell and prepared to die as the whites of the madman’s eyes loomed right up to his face.

  ‘Rymer, you fucking bastard!’ He fell upon his tormentor who was now doubled up braying and cackling, hardly able to find the strength to defend himself due to his uncontrollable laughter. ‘I’ll fucking kill you!’

  Eventually, after a particularly effective blow from Nat, Rymer warded him off and clambered to his feet, still managing to uphold his amusement at the other’s alarm. ‘Oh, God, your face! You almost shit yourself!’

  ‘Where’ve you bloody well been till now?’ demanded a shirty Nat, and flopped back beside the fire.

  ‘Didn’t bloody wait for me did you, fart face?’ Rymer sat opposite Nat upon his rolled up ground sheet and reached for the coffee pot that was balanced on some stones by the fire, wincing at the heat of the handle. ‘Unless you hadn’t noticed, I’ve only got two legs.’

  The campfire illuminated Nat’s frown. ‘Well, that’s gonna hold us back a bit.’

  ‘Oh thanks! Make sure you’re all right, won’t you? I thought you said you could supply the nags?’

  ‘There was nowt to stop you borrowing one,’ parried Nat.

  ‘Round here they call it stealing,’ corrected Rymer, using Nat’s tin mug as a receptacle for his coffee.

  ‘It never bothered you before. What about the compass – I hope you got it?’ Nat was aware of Rymer’s plan to steal this from his guardian.

  ‘As far as I know they don’t hang you for pinching a compass. And, yes, I got it.’

  ‘Would they hang you for stealing a horse?’ Nat was curious.

  Rymer took a sip of the coffee and shuddered at its bitter taste. ‘Not sure, but I know a horse is worth more than a man around here.’ He spoke from experience of his own treatment.

  ‘Did you fetch your money?’ asked Nat.

  ‘I did better than that.’ Rymer grinned. ‘I talked two of the others into giving me all their savings in exchange for a cut of any gold I find.’

  ‘And they believed you?’ Nat looked disgusted.

  ‘Eh, I don’t steal off my pals!’ objected Rymer. ‘I meant it fair and square. I told ’em if they’re too scared to do it on their own I’ll do a bit o’ prospecting on their behalf. They’ve been saving for a long time. Our boss never let us go into town so we never had a chance to spend it. Y’see, I been doing a bit o’ thinking: wouldn’t it be awful if the money ran out before we reached the Yukon? With their donations we needn’t worry about that now.’

  ‘No, but how much gold will they want in return?’ scoffed Nat. ‘Well, I can tell you now, this deal is nowt to do with me. I won’t be giving them a cut of anything I find.’

  Unable to palate either the coffee or the reply, Rymer tipped his cup at the ground. ‘Don’t worry, tight-arse, from what I’ve heard there’ll be plenty to go round. Don’t bother thanking me will you? How much money did you provide by the way?’ The demand was sarcastic, Rymer knowing very well that Nat was penniless. ‘A long way you would’ve got without me.’

  Nat laid down as if to sleep. ‘We won’t get anywhere if you keep talking.’

  Rymer jumped up. ‘Right, I’ll just have a piss.’ He disappeared momentarily into the gloom, then came back to unroll his groundsheet. ‘Where’s that dog o’ yours, by the way?’

  ‘Left it behind,’ mumbled Nat.

  ‘You stupid sod! We could’ve done with it to pull our supplies.’

  ‘He
’s not used to hard work, he would’ve just held us back.’

  ‘Maybe, but we could’ve sold him to some mug – big buggers like him are worth a fortune up there.’ Rymer threw himself down. ‘Did you have any trouble getting away?’

  Nat shuffled onto his side. ‘Aye, t’old fella caught me.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He wished me luck and asked me to fetch him back a stick of rock with Klondike printed all the way through – what d’you think he bloody said?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know, do I?’ objected Rymer. ‘You’re his blue-eyed boy.’

  ‘Well, that wasn’t what he called me when I left. Anyway, shut up and get some sleep.’ Nat closed his eyes.

  Rymer was silent for a while, then muttered, ‘Do these bloody crickets get on your nerves?’

  Nat had almost been drifting into oblivion. The intrusion brought a sigh. ‘Not as much as you do.’

  Unmoved, Rymer asked, ‘D’you know what I’m gonna do with all this gold?’

  ‘Buy yourself a new set of teeth,’ growled Nat, ’cause if you don’t shut up I’m gonna smash them out.’ He tensed, waiting for Rymer to say more, but after a yawn and a few moments of rustling silence returned, and that was the last thing he heard until morning.

  * * *

  At first light, after breakfast, the two boys embarked into the wilderness on the first two hundred miles of their journey. The terrain was difficult to navigate, almost every step of their route imperilled by some natural obstacle: wide rivers over which they had no recourse but to swim, rocky outcrop that threatened to lame the horse, and deep chasms that yawned out of nowhere. Where there were roads these were primitive and often disappeared into bush. They shared the horse, one riding for so many miles whilst the other walked, then vice versa. In the weeks it took to reach Edmonton the trees had turned to scarlet and gold and the nights shimmered with frost. As if this were not hardship enough the food began to run out, necessitating meagre rations for the last leg of this arduous trek. Having no rifle, they were compelled to watch as a partridge broke cover and flew away. They laid snares without success, their only luck arriving in the shape of a solitary Blackfoot Indian who exchanged some dried meat for Rymer’s knife. When they finally arrived at their destination in the fall they had not eaten for two days.